Full Moons Sway the Tides
by LickSkillet
Summary: Being a werewolf is hard, but with the help of his friends, Remus Lupin is coping. When his friends make a life-altering choice, it's almost too much for the insecure boy. But he has his friends- and Sirius. A Marauder's Story BL-Fluff RL/SB
1. Sorted

**Author's Note: **Alright! Re-posting this after a hard-core revamping. Still not a real fan of the whole 'confrontation' scene and how it wraps up... but it won't ever be perfect. ;D

I showed you guys three points of view here. I think I may treat this like CW and go from more than one point of view; IE Sirius and Remus.

* * *

When Sirius Black first met Remus John Lupin, the boy hadn't been very interesting, or enticing. He'd been sitting in a train compartment on the way to Hogwarts for the first time, nose in a book, his warm amber eyes shielded by reading glasses, which were in the process of sliding down his large nose –as yet unbroken— the countryside blurring by outside the window in a whir of green fields and blue skies. Strikingly, his dusty-hay colored, tousled hair appeared to be dotted with gray in the right light, even at eleven years of life. His robes, while at first glance had looked new, just as Sirius' own were –- measured to his exact proportions, to be precise – looked faintly worn in.

Remus hadn't even seemed to notice Sirius, as he had been so engrossed in that book. Sirius remembered bending his head to read the title-- Hogwarts, a History… what a boring book. They were probably bound to learn everything there was to learn about Hogwarts once they were in the bloody school anyway, what use would it be to read a _book_ about the place?

But it had been the first empty compartment that Sirius Black and his newfound companion, James Potter, had come across. And so Sirius had barged in, sitting down across from Remus, a very exasperated James bringing up the rear, his mass of black hair even more disheveled than was normal. James had paused in the doorway, pushing his round glasses up his nose with two fingers.

"Excuse us," he'd squeaked, raking a hand back through his hair to bring it to order, simultaneously clearing his throat. "Would you mind if we joined you?"

Remus had looked up quickly, his cool face betraying nothing; he had pulled his reading glasses from his face and closed his book with the practiced patience that came with world-wise, tired men, and smiled radiantly.

"Not at all— please." He'd even taken James' owl and put the poor, squabbling thing beside him on the cushion, making room for James and his suitcase near the window.

* * *

There had been something about that calmness; that eager, trusting attitude, that had both irritated and intrigued eleven-year-old Sirius. As he and James had been drawn, and then bonded together via their rebellious streaks, Sirius had grown closer to Remus because of their severe differences. Remus had always been the voice of reason in their group; willing to put in his two-cents for a prank, but never getting his fingerprints anywhere near the actual plan. It had soon become an un-official goal of Sirius' to cause Remus to blow his rock-solid, patient persona. At first, there hadn't been any headway in said goal. Sure, Remus would get frustrated with James and Sirius, and even poor Peter Pettigrew, who had somehow wormed his way into the foursome by the middle of first year. But he'd never lost his top, so to speak. It was as if he knew what Sirius' game was, and was just as determined to never crack.

But by the end of first year, the boys had begun to suspect. They weren't sure what they suspected, but something was amiss. Remus was always in a pleasant enough mood, eager to please, and it seemed that he snapped at anyone. Yet, nearly once a month, the boy would grow touchy and would grumpily glare at nearly everyone in sight.

Remus seemed to notice this, and would tend to confine himself more often to the dorm to do assignments, or the library to research and read.

By second year, the boys had noticed another pattern. Remus was sick very often, every couple of weeks, sick enough that he would have to spend the night in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey. Remus may have been scrawny, but he wasn't _that_ weak. His family appeared to be falling apart by the seams; he would be constantly leaving Hogwarts to return home for funerals, or to visit sick, estranged family members.

The final tip off, and the one that had called Sirius and his companions to action, had been the scars. Remus had always been shy about his body. None of the boys had ever thought twice about it. That had just been who Remus was.

Remus would always be reading.

Remus would never yell.

Remus always changed in the loo.

Sirius couldn't even remember how he saw the first scars. Maybe he'd walked in on Remus in the showers. Maybe it had been when the other teen had been asleep. Maybe it had been on that day when Peter had caught Remus on fire in Charms, and the poor teen's one good robe had gotten a large hole burnt into the lower back. The point was, Sirius had seen the scars.

And Sirius never missed a chance to run off his large mouth. By the end of the evening, James and Peter had been filled in on the new evidence. By the end of the week, the three had holed themselves up into the library until the sky had turned pink, taking turns under the invisibility cloak to run patrol.

Before the middle of second year year, the three had figured it out. All that had been left was the confrontation.

* * *

Remus had always been insecure. Sirius had been able to tell this from the first time they'd met. The three hadn't quite known how to address this new matter with Remus. Clearly, Dumbledore had known all along about Remus' … _affliction_, and so the teen was clearly in some sort of contract. By admitting to Remus that they knew his secret, would they be expelled from the school?

James had decided on the private confrontation, in their own dorm room, while all the rest of the school would be down at breakfast. It had been a cold morning in the winter of their third year, a light dusting of snow fell outside; the silence had been stifling.

"Oi… Remus, hold it a 'sec."

The teen had turned around with that guarded, open smile, eyes warm and glowing with trust. Something had twisted in Sirius' gut.

"Yeah, James?"

"Can- can we chat, before we head down to breakfast?"

"…Alright. But let's not be too late—I would like a at least a _shot_ at being Prefect, you know." The joking light to his eyes belied the vanishing smile. He had settled on the edge of his own bed. James and Sirius had sat on Sirius' bed, facing Remus. Peter had been sitting on his bed, which had its side flush against the wall and windows.

"Well… Remus…" Poor James had floundered, his eyes scanning the room as the gears audibly turned beneath his shaggy, spiky mess of black hair. "You know how you … are always getting sick."

Remus' warm, liquid whisky eyes had clearly dimmed, his face set into a neutral mask.

"Yes, James?"

"And… your family is … well, all those dying relatives."

"And your mood swings," Sirius had put in. James had glared at him, he remembered, because maybe his tone had been a bit too snide and playful. But it had never been Sirius' strongpoint to be serious and calm and to think things through. He had always gone with his instincts.

"What are you two getting at?" Remus had asked, his words dissolving into a faint, barely audible nervous giggle.

"Remus…"

Silence had enveloped the room, as if the snow outside were some sort of silencing charm. Sirius' skin had crawled, and he'd ached to scream out and break the tension; he had seen Peter from the corner of his vision, clearly uneasy with how this conversation was going. "Remus… are you a werewolf?"

And then Sirius had wanted to scream even more than before. Because the silence merely two seconds earlier had been nothing. The second silence had been the crushing sort, like a whooshing wave had crashed over their heads. Remus' face had paled to ash, his eyes dull and unfocused as his mouth worked at forming words.

"Wha—what? You mean… you mean, the sort of werewolf that howls at the moon?"

"What other werewolf is—Ow, James, you arse!"

"Yes, Remus. It's just… with the scars… and the… _mood swings_, and it's practically like clockwork, you see. Every month, on the night of the full moon, you disappear. Your symptoms seem to peak during the week leading up the full moon…."

There had been a prolonged silence. Peter had shifted uncomfortably. Maybe Sirius would finally see Remus crack.

And he did.

Remus' warm, happy eyes had closed, slowly, a single tear leaking out before a thick drizzle had worked through his eyelids.

"Merlin, please—don't tell anyone! I've never hurt a soul! I just—I just – I was bitten and I go to the old abandoned shack and I … I have been thrown out of so many schools, and Dumbledore knows about it, and I promise… I'll never speak to any of you again, you can forget about me. I only… I wanted a fresh start…"

The teen had then dissolved into wracking sobs, his frail shoulders shaking with the effort of releasing years of tension and anxiety and self-loathing in thick, salty tears. When Sirius had secretly wanted to see his companion explode, this hadn't been what he'd wanted.

"Remus! Remus calm down!" James had leapt into action after floundering for merely seconds, moving unto Remus' bed and throwing an arm around the shaking teen's shoulders. "We … we don't _hate_ you Remus, please." The sobs had begun to subside, deep breaths punctuating the heavy silence as Remus had tried to control his response enough to speak coherently.

"Y-y-y-you d-don't?" He'd stuttered, lifting his face sheepishly, cheeks red hot in blush.

"Of course not, Remus!" Peter had thrown in, his squeaky voice unsure.

"We wouldn't tell a soul, Remus." Sirius had promised, catching the teen's gaze in a passing glance.

"B-but… I… I'm a bloody monster!" Remus had exclaimed as he'd pushed his way up, his arms shoved towards his companions. Teeth marks and hashes had criss-crossed on the thin, pale skin across the underside of his arms, highlighting faintly bulging blue veins, but none of the other boys had bothered to blink an eye.

"You are not a monster, Remus." James had whispered as his hands reached up to gently squeeze the skinny teen's shoulder.

"Just because you have a … slightly… _hairy_ imposition every month is no reason for us to hate you. We're your friends, Remus—we're not going anywhere." Sirius had interjected

There had been the tense silence—Sirius remembered Remus' face, taught and harsh, his eyes narrowed in suspicion before his entire body loosened and became lax, the carefree aura once more being exuded.

* * *

When Remus had settled in for his first train ride to Hogwarts at the tender age of eleven years, he hadn't expected to befriend anyone, let alone two purebloods, one of which was practically _royalty_.

The two had made quite an impression, never shutting up during the entirety of the train ride.

Sirius Black, the noble part of the pair, had looked the wilder of the two, and that had proved true in time. (If there was one thing that Remus was good at, it was reading people.) The harsh, stone-grey eyes, which one could tell had been bred to look ferocious and stoic, looked like molten silver, the edges crinkled up in the everlasting glimmer of a playful smirk. The hair, blacker than James', if that were possible, had been short then. It was obvious that someone had painstakingly smoothed and combed it back, but that the rebellious teen had worked it into a shaggy mess that would only improve with time.

James, on the other hand, had managed to look very regal and commanding, even as he burst into devious guffaws with his newfound best mate. His black hair, which was slightly longer, had decided to stick out in all possible arrangements, his hazel eyes glinting much like Sirius', if in a less intimidating manner, behind round spectacles.

Together, the two made a formidable duo.

* * *

At the Sorting, Remus had watched his barely-acquaintances both get sorted into Gryffindor, and found himself hoping, in the back of his mind, to be sorted in with them, if only to have a leg up on making some sort of friends. He had really liked those two… even though they had kept him from his reading.

_Oh, well, what have we here?_

_You must be rather special to have been admitted here, boy!_

_Now, now, let's not be so modest!_

_Hmm. What a warm heart! … Somewhat fragile in nature…_

_Quick-witted, though, mustn't forget that, no…!_

_And then there is the matter of those monthly transformations—_

_You are deeply frightened of them, are you not?_

_But the courage it must take to –_

…_What's that? _

_You are frightened of hurting __**others**__! Now __there__ is the proper sort of fear._

_Along with that comes the proper sort of courage!_

_Now, now… let me see… so many choices…Please do stop fidgeting!_

"_**Gryffindor!"**_

Something akin to relief had seeped deeply into the timid boy as he'd stood up and gingerly handed the talking, singing hat to Professor McGonagall before he'd meandered towards the red-and-gold decorated Gryffindor table.

At first he'd thought that he would sit at the end of the table, until, amidst the warm clapping, came cries of,

"Lupin, oi!"

"Remus mate, over here!"

James, Sirius, and a shorter, portlier blonde boy had been seated along the center of the table, and were waving rather frantically in Remus' direction, indicating for him to sit down.

When Remus has first settled in for his first train ride to Hogwarts at the tender age of eleven years, he hadn't expected to befriend anyone.

* * *

* * *

_Thump_

_Thump_

_ThumpThumpThump_

_Thump… Thump_

"Sirius…"

_Thump Thump_

_Thump_

_ThumpThumpThump_

"...Sirius!"

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

"Sirius! … Please!"

At the heartfelt plea of his companion, Sirius stopped throwing his heels against the base of the train bench, instead threading his fingers behind his head and sighing with a playfully aggravated tone.

"Aw, but _Remmy_—I'm so much more interesting than that book!"

"Call me _Remmy_ one more time, Sirius—" Remus growled, closing his book with a decided snap; he wasn't going to get to read any more.

"Or you'll what? _Lecture_ me to death?" Sirius snickered, lounging out across the seat and throwing his legs lazily across James' lap.

"Oi! Gerroff, you git!" James grunted, shoving Sirius' long legs off from his lap with a harsh shove. "What would you do to him, Remus?" James asked, a twinkle glittering in his eyes.

"I'd make sure he's locked in the Shack with me, the next time I get inconvenienced by my _hairy little problem._"

The cabin became completely still, the clacking of the train's wheels magnified and ear piercing, the awkward silence stretching on for a few long moments.

"Ahem—" James cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose, "I must say, Mr. Black… I do believe that to be the first time our dear Mr. Lupin has mentioned his _condition_ in a joking manner!" The boy's voice was pompous and deep, managing to sound the part of a mocking therapist.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I must agree! He is making such _lovely _progress, I really must say! He may have a sense of humor after all!" Sirius agreed, his voice quavering with barely contained guffaws.

"I've always had a sense of humor!" Remus huffed, allowing a small grin to spread across his face. "It isn't my fault that you lot can't find a laugh without it being at someone else's expense."

"Hold on! We only torture old Snivelly!" James cried indignantly, managing to make the other 5th' Year's name sound like some sort of disgusting disease as well as a slur. Remus sighed, rolling his eyes and opening his book with a sigh of resignation.

The other boy's eyes were so far buried in Of Muggles and Magic that he missed the conspiratory glance and shared devious smirk that passed between his trouble-making friends, the rumble of the train against the tracks drowning out the sound of their low, excited whispers.


	2. Tested

**Author's Note:**

I got.... 4 reviews I think? Within two days! I was very pleased with the response, and thusly was inspired to write more, because you all were interested and wanted more! I got one review asking for Sirius' POV, so that it mainly how it goes this chapter... But there will be moments when I'll have to give in Remus' two cents. Please don't kill me. xD

Still not entirely sure where this is going... right now we're just getting these lot into the routine of being there for Remus. I'm also trying to introduce Lily and Snape into the picture, as they will be pivotal later. AND YES THERE SHALL BE SOME SLASH! It's just taking a while to get these two together. 8[

Let's try for at least 5 reviews this time, again, alright? :D

* * *

"Cover your eyes now, Remus." James commanded.

Remus nervously placed his hands over his closed eyes, starting when he felt the tip of a wand touch to his knuckles, making him unable to separate his fingers or remove his hands from his head.

"J-James? Sirius? …. Peter?" Remus stood stock still, afraid to move even an inch, for fear he might get a foot caught on a loose board and go toppling to the floor. The Shrieking Shack was old and decrepit, and though he spent a night here every month, it was far from his favorite place to be.

There was nothing but silence from his three companions, which unnerved Remus even more. A feeling of uneasy insecurity settled into the pit of his stomach. What if his friends had just left him there, as some sort of prank?

The honey-brunette shook his head to himself, awkwardly pulling his arms along in the motion.

A noise of clacking against the floorboards made Remus jump, the small hairs on the back of his neck pricking up. He was completely defenseless, unable to reach his wand, let alone run. It sounded… almost like _hooves._

"James?" Remus asked again, flushing furiously when he heard the squeaky tone to his voice. There was a tap at his fingertips and he jumped back from it, his hands flying off of his face.

"Merlin's beard!" He cried, falling back unto the dusty, squeaking bed that lay against the far wall.

In front of him stood a regal looking stag, two pronged antlers curving up into glorious spikes. The deer stood and stared calmly at Remus, cocking its head ever so slightly.

Remus' hand reached for his wand, sliding over his robe material toward his pocket, when he felt something rather large and furry brush against his fingertips. Closing his eyes and taking a rather deep breath, the teen turned to see a fat, greasy-furred tan rat sit up on its haunches and regard him with strikingly white-blue eyes. It pulled its lips up and revealed a bulging yellowing bucktooth, in what Remus almost thought could be a smile—if rats could smile, of course.

A deep, throaty growl caused Remus to turn to look to his left and slightly behind, his blood running cold at a the sight of a hulking, shaggy black wolf of a dog, standing with its head angled down and ears pulled back, white teeth and pink gums exposed as another growl rumbled up from the creature's chest.

There would have been something utterly terrifying about the animal, had Remus not noticed the dog's large eyes. They were not brown, or hazel, or blue, but a striking metallic, quicksilver grey. A playful light was glimmering deep in those eyes, a hidden smirk twinkling.

"Gods! Sirius!?" Remus exclaimed, standing and sending the rat tumbling head over paws unto the pillows.

The dog barked, and then began to wheeze with his teeth exposed, and Remus realized that he was _laughing._

"…Sirius? Is that really you?"

To his shock – relief? – the dog nodded in conformation. Turning weakly, Remus reached out a hand to the disheveled rat. The shaken creature climbed unto his hand and Remus slowly, timidly brought the creature closer to his face.

"…Pete?" He whispered, feeling his blood rushing out from his head. The rat bit him gently on the thumb. "Sorry for- for throwing you." Remus apologized, smiling cheekily. "But … Does that mean…?"

Peter clambered up unto Remus' shoulder, tucking himself in at the base of his neck. It tickled, but Remus wasn't quite in the mood to laugh. The werewolf turned to face the large stag that seemed to be taking up the entirety of the room. It was still regarding him patiently.

"James." Remus stated, cocking an eyebrow. "You really… you don't look a thing like yourself," he muttered, shaking his head. "I mean… I don't really picture a bloody _stag_ when I think of you."

The deer narrowed his warm brown eyes and threw his head indignantly. Remus couldn't help but laugh at that, because that was truly a James-like thing to do.

"Bloody hell," Remus sighed, sinking slowly back unto the bed. Sirius padded quietly over and placed his huge head into Remus' lap, and Remus found that he couldn't help but reach out to scratch behind his ears. It was so strange to think of his best friends…

"You alright, Rem?" Came a voice, startling Remus out from his reveries. He looked up to see James slipping his wand back into his robe pocket and pushing his glasses up his nose.

"…I … I really don't know, James." He turned to look at Sirius, glowering playfully at his canine companion. "Now really, Sirius— who thought of this? Between the three of you there isn't a full brai—"

His words were cut off in a quiet cry of pain as Peter sunk his sharp rat teeth into his ear. A loud growl came from in his lap, the vibrations of the noise shaking Remus to his bones.

"His name is Padfoot." James informed Remus, sitting down beside him on the bed and taking Peter into his hands. "And we call Peter 'Wormtail' now."

"…And what's your name?" Remus murmured after a moment, his hands buried in Siri—Padfoot's fur.

"I'm Prongs." He answered, grinning proudly.

"How did you all…-"

The ringing of the school bell cut Remus off mid-sentence, the boy jumping up at the sound. Their trip to Hogsmeade was over, for now.

"Let's head downstairs, Remus. Pads and Wormtail will be right after us, right?" The animals both nodded, each moving over to their respective piles of clothing.

"I didn't even get to go to Honeydukes…" Remus muttered absently, running a hand back through his hair.

"We can send Sirius down later," James dismissed, waving his hand in the air. It wasn't long before Sirius and Peter caught up with them, but Remus kept his mouth shut and all his questions bottled up until they had passed through the portrait hole and the door to the boys' dormitory was closed behind them.

"Alright, you three. You have a lot of explaining to do."

* * *

"Well, Remus, you see… It wasn't anyone's idea … really." James started. Sirius snickered and threw himself down unto his bed, shaking his head.

"We'd just had enough mornings of you in the bloody Hospital Wing, covered in those horrible scratches and bites." Sirius muttered, watching Remus' face grow ashen and his mouth draw into a thin line.

"We just wanted to help!" Peter squawked, holding his arms out plaintively. Sirius glared under his hair at the pudgy blonde. He still wasn't sure as to how Peter Pettigrew had come to be a part of their Marauder group. The portly 5th Year wasn't good for much; he was a genius at Herbology, and followed James like a sick puppy. While it was somewhat redeeming to Sirius that the boy had been willing to illegally become and Animagi for Remus' sake, he couldn't help but chalk it up to peer pressure.

"…But what you lot've done… It's illegal." Remus exhaled, sitting at the foot of his bed and folding his arms into his lap. Sirius watched his expression become neutral as the werewolf gazed dazedly as his shoes.

"It took us nearly three years to complete the bloody process," Sirius tried to explain. "We wouldn't have gone through with it completely without being very _serious_ about this." The shaggy-haired Black heir grinned cheekily at the old pun, looking to James for help.

"You… you all have been going at this since 2nd Year?" Remus breathed, clearly shocked.

"We can help you with your transformations, Remus." James started. Remus looked up fast enough that Sirius was able to hear his neck crack. Before the other teen could get a word in, however, James quickly continued. "Wormtail can hit the knot on the Whomping Willow," he started, gesturing towards Peter, who gave a shit-eating grin. "Prongs can help keep you under control. And Padfoot-" James shrugged, as if it were obvious. Sirius grinned as he remembered Remus' expression when he had first recognized the noble Black son underneath all that thick fur. "-Padfoot can be the werewolf's playmate."

"We even have a nickname for you, Remus!" Sirius exclaimed, sitting up and tossing his hair back with a free hand. It had grown to an inch below his ears now, the locks long and lanky; an act of rebellion against his most noble parents. "What d'you think of 'Moony'?" he offered, smiling genuinely.

"…Moony?" Remus deadpanned, his mouth set in a flat line and one eyebrow cocked in disbelief. "Really, Sirius? You, with all your tremendous creativity for pranks, couldn't think of a better name than Moony?"

"Think of it, Remus! Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs! The four Marauders! The bane of all who teach at Hogwarts!" Sirius felt his grin stretch further across his face, making his cheeks hurt faintly.

"It does have quite a ring to it… we should change our names on The Map." James agreed, nudging Remus gently with his elbow. "C'mon… Give it a try, _Moony_."

"…. I can't have you all there when the werewolf comes out!" Remus exclaimed, seemingly coming to terms with what had all been said. Sirius sighed and rolled his eyes, slightly disappointed. Remus should have been rolling on the floor in gratitude, not trying to logically find a way to undo an illegal act.

"We can take care of ourselves, Moony." Peter said softly. Sirius had to admit he liked the new nicknames, even though he most likely wasn't going to walk around calling Peter 'Wormtail' anytime soon—it wasn't all that attractive.

"Have you seen Prongs' antlers?" Sirius added, scoffing and rolling his eyes playfully. "No werewolf'll mess with him once he's proved himself to be a friend – and a force to be reckoned with."

"It isn't safe!" Remus continued, shaking his head. "If something happens-"

"Nothing will happen, Remus!" James soothed, sitting next to Remus and clapping him gently on the back. Thank Merlin for James. "The werewolf is a part of you, right? He'll know who we are… maybe all he wants are some friends. If he had something to do, you know he'd be much better behaved. He only attacks himself so feverishly because he's got nothing better to do. Once a month he gets to come out, and what does he have to look forward to— a bloody time out in a dusty, creaky, cramped flat? Oh, gee, just what the werewolf doctor ordered." James wrinkled his nose playfully and managed to coax a grin across Remus' wane face.

"Just one chance, Moony. There's three of us—if anything happens, we promise to get whoever's hurt to safety." Sirius added, after having a quick laugh at the image of a grumpy werewolf in timeout, dunce cap planted low on its head.

"…You lot are either the stupidest bunch of blockheaded blokes I've ever met," Remus started, shaking his head, "Or the most amazing mates a werewolf could ever have."

* * *

"You all know the plan, right?" Remus queried, his voice shaking. Sirius felt like reaching an arm out to steady his clearly in-pain friend, but was afraid that the other boy would snap at him, or break his arm in a random act of violence.

It was merely minutes before the full moon would rise. It was their first full moon with Moony since they had revealed their very illegal secret roughly a week ago in August (It was now September). The four Marauders stood at the foot of the stairs, Remus slightly above Sirius and the others; his tie loosened and first buttons of his shirt undone.

"We stand here and wait until you come charging down to gorge on our blood," Sirius muttered dryly, earning him a firm clap on the ear.

"I'm in no mood for jokes, Black." Remus reprimanded darkly. Sirius blanched and blinked at his usually charming and non-confrontational companion, but clenched his jaw shut.

"We'll be ready, Remus, don't worry," James soothed, pulling his sweater over his head as he spoke. Remus sighed resignedly and shook his head, pushing his fingers against closed eyes.

"And if there is even the slightest sign of—" Remus' words were cut short by a cry of pain and a sickening crunch of bone. Before Sirius or the others could begin to comprehend, the boy was up the stairs and behind a hulking wooden door.

"Better change fast mates," James commanded, ripping his tie from around his neck and quickly undoing his belt.

The four of them soon stood stark naked in the dark, dusty lower room of the Shrieking Shack, listening to Remus' barely contained moans and sobs of pain.

Sirius began the transformation, feeling his bones and tissue slide effortlessly against themselves to rearrange; form new joints, expand muscle, grow new appendages. In a few painless moments he was standing on all fours, watching a stag gradually grow two-pronged antlers, and a rat slowly shrink down to size.

Before he could think to get his bearings, Padfoot heard heavy footfalls upstairs, accompanied by the scrape of claws. A low growl rumbled through his body unbidden, canine instincts quickly taking over. In his peripheral vision he was able to notice Prongs coming to attention and Wormtail quickly clambering up and unto Prongs' back, for safety.

Moony must have heard his growl, because Padfoot's heightened hearing picked up a lower, much more threatening snarl from upstairs. The large black dog braced himself near the foot of the stairs, keeping his head low and his tail between his legs, as Moony had instructed.

'_He'll be very violent, Sirius. Promise me you won't try and get the upper hand on him. Werewolves are apt to be dominant. As much as it may hurt your masculine pride, try and let him be Alpha Male, alright?'_

It wasn't long before Moony came bursting out the door and stumbled down the stairs, scraping across the wooden floors.

Padfoot quivered momentarily at the sight of the massive beast. It was his first time ever seeing a werewolf, and it wasn't at all what he'd been expecting.

The animal had retained most of its human body structure, so that it loped rather awkwardly, although it did have the double-jointed back legs and a long, pointed muzzle twisted into a ferocious expression. Its body was covered in sparse brown fur, thin pointed ears angled back in anger, its amber eyes – Remus' eyes, only much more violent and bright – glaring heatedly at Padfoot.

_Easy there, Moony…_ Padfoot thought to himself, lowering himself down and then rolling over to his back, exposing his stomach and throat to the dominant male. He could hear Prongs moving anxiously, and could only hope that his friend understood that this had to be done.

The beast swam into Padfoot's vision, his teeth gleaming in the vivid, cold white moonlight. His breath smelled horrible— like rotted flesh and blood. Sirius could only wriggle faintly closer and run his tongue along the underside of the werewolf's – he couldn't think of this as _Remus_—throat, making a small whimpering noise. It was faintly disgusting, but Sirius wasn't being _Sirius_, he was being Padfoot, and if these actions kept him alive, he would do them until the moon went down.

After what felt like a lifetime, the werewolf's long pink tongue flashed out and lapped a wet line up Padfoot's face, making the wolf dog leap up and whine in disgust, running his paws across his face to remove the drool, the werewolf wagging his tail in a playful manner.

A squeaking behind him reminded Padfoot that they weren't alone, and he quickly went over to his stag-and-rat companions. The werewolf looked the two over for a moment, seeming to accept them into his presence, but showing much more interest in Padfoot.

The werewolf lowered himself unto his front haunches, his rear end going up at an awkward angle, a small playful yip popping from between his pearly whites fangs.

_Ah, so… You want to play, eh, Moony?_

Padfoot quickly assumed the playful crouch and gave a playful growl, his tail wagging automatically.

_See, Moony? I told you—everything is fine.

* * *

_

"Merlin… Did I have to re-grow bones or something?" Remus asked gruffly, running a shaking hand across his face.

"You had a wonderful night last night, I'll have you know." Sirius scoffed, offended by his friend's first words. The four of them were seated in the Hospital Wing after dinner, Remus finally coherent – and comfortable enough – to carry on conversation. The night had ended without much fuss; James, Peter and Sirius had managed to leave under the Invisibility Cloak before Madame Pomfrey could get to the Shack.

While the first few moments had been sheer terror for Sirius – which he would never admit – the rest of the night had been quite fine.

"No one got hurt?" Remus asked, nibbling on his chapped lower lip.

"You didn't even raise a hackle after the first few minutes," James informed his skinnier cohort, smiling comfortingly.

"You and I actually got on well, actually," Sirius interrupted, patting Remus gingerly on the shoulder. "We romped most of the night, while Prongs played referee."

"All I got to do was watch. The most important thing I did all night was push the bloody knob on the Willow," Peter whined. Sirius repressed a very Padfoot-like growl, irritated that Peter was treating this as child's play. He would have mentioned how _scared _he had been, or that being that close to a real live werewolf was completely terrifying, but he didn't want to distress poor Remus any more than he was already doing to himself.

"Oi, Pete, didn't you have an exam in Herbology today?" Remus asked suddenly, changing the mood. It was such a perfect Remus thing to do—to force the conversation off from himself and focus on someone else, and Merlin new that Peter could use some more positive attention. He nearly only hung out with and talked to James, and Sirius and James were closer than brothers, but Remus was the quiet neutral in the group, everyone's friend, but no one's best friend.

"Oh! No one … you remembered!" Peter spluttered, clearly flustered. "It went rather well, actually. Not like I'm very smart or anything-"

_Fishing for compliments… He's such a bastard…_

"Now Pete, you're a genius at Herbology!" Remus insisted, shaking his head, and then flinching at the motion. Sirius felt a strange sensation, like a wash of guilt, at the expression of pain. He'd thought that last night had gone well; he couldn't see any new scars on the teen, and the werewolf had enjoyed himself immensely. Then again, the transformation from werewolf to boy and vice versa was well known to be rather painful… he was probably very stiff.

"I never could how you were so good with those Mangroves… I nearly went deaf that first class!" James added, wincing at the memory. "Give me _History of Magic_ over Herbology any day."

"That is a perfectly entertaining class!" Remus snapped, cuffing James playfully upside his head.

"You have gotten quiet violent of late, Mr. Moony!" Sirius exclaimed, grabbing his friend's bony wrist and pushing James out of harm's way overdramatically. "Do not harm my dearest Jamesy! One million points from Gryffindor!"

"I shan't let some mangy mutt take points from our own house. That's my job!"

"And you're much too good at it, Moony," James complained softly, shaking his head.

"You nearly burned that poor First Year's nose off with that fire-breathing hot sauce sandwich gag!" Remus maintained, sighing tiredly. "I would have lost my post as Prefect if I hadn't taken _at least_ ten points from Gryffindor."

Sirius snickered at the memory… The poor girl had squealed rather embarrassingly and fled from the Great Hall in a real show.

"That sandwich had been meant for Snivellus' plate and you know it!" James growled, his eyes darkening. "No points need be taken for a prank that accidentally became purposely harmless to the wrong person!"

Remus remained pointedly quiet; he made it quite clear that he was on no one's side as far as the Severus Snape vs. James Potter war went.

"Speaking of old Snivelly…" Sirius said softly, launching into a story. "I saw he and Evans chattering away during a passing period. The two of them are becoming quite chummy—I wouldn't be surprised if Snivellus had it had it in for her."

He caught Remus' eye, and was shocked by the hostile, shocked glare that the werewolf was throwing his way.

"Wha—"

Sirius turned his head and caught sight of James' face, screwed up into a dark, foreboding grimace.

"Well, we have it in for old Snivellus. So, in that way, it's fair, isn't it, Pads?"

* * *

Nearly two weeks later, and Halloween was all but upon them. The Marauders had been plotting their annual prank. Because of Remus' Prefect position, he was unable to be 'involved' in the prank, but he occasionally gave input from behind his copy of _A Separate Peace_.

"—We can bewitch some sort of banner," Peter offered, shrugging. "As one of the lighter aspects of the prank, of course." He added hastily, at Sirius' unimpressed glance.

"Let's see if we can get some skeletons… maybe from Defense Against the Dark Arts… Enchant them to dance across the tables…"

"The candles can blow out, leaving everyone alone under the light of the full-mooned, enchanted ceiling… Maybe get a wolf howl for effect… Get one of the House ghosts to moan-"

"Wait, Prongs, did you just say full moon?" Sirius interjected, casting a glance to Remus, who didn't seem to have noticed.

"…Oh bloody _hell!_" James hissed, bringing his fist down against his knee for emphasis.

"What are we going to do? Just leave the prank to go on without us?" Peter exclaimed, earning another wary glare from Sirius, but it was too late. Remus had closed his book and was looking up with curiosity betraying his blasé demeanor.

"What's the matter?" Remus inquired, tossing his book gently into his trunk.

"The… Well, you see… the prank--"

Sirius sighed exasperatedly, raking a hand back through his shaggy hair. James was sometimes too good at beating around the bush.

"There's going to be a full moon on Halloween night." Sirius quipped, rolling his eyes. "Typical luck, isn't it?"

"…Oh." Remus stared blankly for a moment, keeping his face blank of emotion, which irritated Sirius- had always irritated the rash, headstrong Black heir.

"Now don't any of you feel obligated to stay with me!" he suddenly exclaimed, the meaning of the somber silence finally reaching him. "I know that you lot really look forward to the Halloween prank."

"Don't be silly, Moony! You need us there! Without Padfoot and Prongs, you're more apt to hurt yourself."

"A scar or two more isn't going to _kill_ me," Remus joked quietly, giving a weak chuckle. Sirius couldn't help but scowl as he thought of possibilities. The wolf could hash himself across the stomach… bite a wrist and rupture an artery…

"No, Moony, James is right. It's much too dangerous for you to go through this alone anymore."

"I survived perfectly well for my entire life _alone_, Sirius!" Remus snapped softly, his amber eyes hardening. "Besides, I can tell that the Shack isn't where you want to be. And if all you're doing the entire evening is thinking about what's going on back in the Great Hall… well, you shan't be doing a very good job of taking care of me."

"…. I can stay with you, Remus." Sirius offered, not entirely sure where this was leading. He personally felt like he was the only one of the three illegal Animagi that would be of any help to Moony. Yes, there was more of a risk that Moony would cut himself or inflict a wound without Prongs there to 'discipline' him… but it wasn't like Sirius didn't know a few quick healing spells. If need be, he could throw a few out before Pomfrey came up to escort Remus back to the grounds.

He watched Remus' expression, a strange transition from anger, to uneasiness, to insecurity – _does Sirius really want to do this?_ he would be thinking – to wonderment, to a mulling acceptance.

"Think of it!" Sirius added, quickly working to convince his friends. "Sure, there's a chance that Moony'll still inflict a scratch or two without Prongs to run interference with his great _rack-"_

"Bloody hell, you can make anything sound dirty…" Prongs scoffed, shaking his head.

"-But even without Prongs, Moony seems to be in a great mood around Padfoot, and that should be enough to distract him from serious bodily damage. I mean, we can't very well leave _just_ Prongs, because he can't play with Moony, and under no circumstances do we just abandon Wormtail in the Shack alone!"

The room was silent as Sirius took a much-needed breath and focused on organizing his very disjointed thoughts. He never took this much time to think through what he said before he said it, and he found it to be rather tiring.

"It would be pointless for all of us to miss out on a prank that we were all a part of, and the teachers will get suspicious if they come looking for us and no one is here." He added, smirking when he caught sight of Remus' agape jaw. His brilliantness must have been overwhelming the poor teen. "I can claim a sore stomach before dinner, in front of everyone, go meet up with Remus at the Shack- I'll take the passage through the humped ol' Witch statue. I can be back before morning, maybe clean up some of Moony's more minor cuts…"

The silence stretched on as he finished, sitting there and staring around the room. Remus still looked rather flabbergasted, James looked thoughtful, and Peter … Peter looked hungry.

"You have to admit, Remus, he has a point." James agreed, nodding his head slowly. "It makes the most sense. Besides, Sirius is always missing dinner, sore stomach or not." The shaggy-haired teen threw Sirius an over-emphasized wink, making Sirius feel rather indignant.

"Now, Prongs, just because _I_ get enough and you can't so much as get Evans to _look_ at you…"

"Alright."

The soft voice made both boys stop their playful banter for a moment. They turned, and Sirius caught Remus' warm eyes in his own.

"I can't argue with your logic, Sirius… even though I'm still trying to get my head around where this logic _came from_…" he chuckled, and Sirius let the jab slide. "It does make sense. I'm not afraid of a few more scars, and I'm not very worried for Padfoot's safety… from what you told me, the werewolf has accepted you into his pack. As long as you make sure to stay submissive, everything should be alright."

"So Padfoot shall come with me to the Shack on Halloween… and you two had better create the most elaborate, most talked about prank in all Hogwarts' history."

"Don't worry Rem, we will." James promised, putting his hand against his chest and smirking deviously before reciting the group's self-assigned mantra,

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs--" James started, looking around at each person with their name, before they all said, in chorus,

"Solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

* * *

**End Notes: **Sorry for the lame... ending. But it's just showing their evolving from a random group of friends, to friends with a real purpose-- to protect Remus. And then it's going to evolve as each of them has their own agenda. Hope you all enjoyed! And don't forget to review!!


	3. Passed

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Uhm. So I saw this sitting in my folder for this fic... and I never updated it for ya'll? Uh, yeah, my bad! I'm actually almost done with the fourth chapter as well, I think... Just have to figure out if I like the ending. Nothin' too exciting this chapter. And another shitty, awkward ending. Sorry D:

* * *

* * *

"You can still leave, Sirius…" Remus whispered, standing awkwardly at the side of the bed on the second floor of the Shrieking Shack. Sirius shook his head, his shaggy ebony locks waving back and forth at the motion.

"I can't leave you alone, Moony," the Black heir explained, beginning to get slightly irritated with his friend's insistence that he disappear. "Besides, I get out of any sort of detentions by not being in attendance for the prank."

To be honest, the teen was a little upset that he wouldn't be able to get an easy Halloween lay whilst basking in the glow of a prank well done, as he had done nearly every year.

Remus sighed tiredly, gracing his companion with a wane smile while clumsily tugging at the knot of his tie. It made Sirius uncomfortable to have to see Remus' taught, pale face, covered with a pale sheen of sweat from obvious discomfort.

"…You alright, Moony?" Sirius asked softly, unsure of how to handle the situation. Usually James handled Remus, because usually Remus handled everyone else. Sirius had never been one for comforting anyone else, even James, who was closer to him than his blood brother, Regulus.

"…" Remus' face fell into his hands with a strangled sob, causing something inside of Sirius to twist painfully.

_Shite, shite, shite!_

The young Animagus slowly crossed the room's distance between them and placed an arm around Remus' frail shoulders, pulling his companion into a gentle embrace and seating them down on the edge of the bed.

"Hey, Remus, it'll be alright!" Sirius hushed uneasily, running his hand up and down the werewolf's easily palpable spine.

"I … I don't know if I can take this forever, Sirius." Remus whispered, pulling his head from his hands and revealing that not a single tear had been shed.

"Hey, now, what d'you mean by that? You've got Padfoot and Prongs and Wormtail to help you now!" Sirius exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood the only way he knew how.

"… I can't have you lot looking after me forever." Remus deadpanned, fixing a calm, knowing gaze upon Sirius. The other felt himself fall ever so slightly into those heavy honey eyes; they were so deep and open and warm, it was hard not to want to gush out every single problem onto Remus.

Perhaps the base of Remus' problem wasn't just having to deal with his Lycanthropy, although Sirius would not be one to make light of the affliction – maybe, in actuality, Remus was tired of keeping things inside all the time. Remus was always listening to others; keeping secrets, taking burdens, being a shoulder to cry on.

"You've got us Remus—You've got me. We'll be here as long as you need us," Sirius promised softly, ruffling the skinny teen's sandy-brown locks in an affectionate manner. "I'm certainly not going to run home after we graduate… I'll be at your beck and call," he teased gently, cracking a devious smile.

"I--" the teen's smile and start of a sentence splintered into a grimace and exaltation of pain as Remus fell back unto the bed and curled up into himself, a series of sickening cracks making the boy's entire body spasm.

"Moony! Christ-"

"Get out … of h-here… Sirius!" Remus hissed, turning his now-burning amber eyes towards the Animagi.

Not needing to be told twice, Sirius quickly backed out of the room and closed the door, throwing his shirt, tie, underwear, socks and knickers into a pile at the base of the stairs before allowing the warmth of the transformation flow across his body and change him from Remus' best mate to a part of Moony's pack.

A series of groans and snaps came from behind the thick wooden door, making Padfoot whine as he trotted down the stairs.

Remus was by far the strongest person that Sirius knew. One time a month the teen allowed himself to give in to the ailment that wracked his body, never allowing a soul to see the painful expressions on his face, to see the other boy _feel_, which was hilarious in its own way, for everyone in the Gryffindor house knew that Remus felt the most about everything and everyone.

It wasn't long before the Wolf came barreling from the upstairs room and headfirst into Padfoot, the two tussling and exchanging playful nips for nearly half an hour before Moony's attention began to wander.

In hopes of keeping the werewolf distracted and docile, Padfoot lead the hulking creature out the back doorway and into the Forbidden Forest, where the two ran under the silver light of the All Hallows Eve moon, the heady scents of the wood carried on a sharp, late autumn wind. The sensory overload was nearly too much for Sirius, who had never taken Padfoot out into the open before.

The pack mates ran for hours, until the silver light of the moon faded into the peachy-pink cool of dawn and dew began to settle on the leaves. It took plenty of coercing on Padfoot's part to get Moony back into the Shack, yet merely minutes after settling in at the top of the stairs, the two fell asleep, huddled together on the floor to keep warm.

* * *

When Remus awoke, his body ached all over. A thin, dusty yellow light came in through the boarded windows, and it was easy for the teen to quickly recognize where he was, although most of the night before was a silver-tinted blur.

What Remus _did_ remember was that he had left Sirius alone with the Wolf the night before, and the boy quickly rolled over and made to sit up before he noticed that Sirius was laying next to him, partly curled around him, arms thrown haphazard above his head.

Remus held his breath as his heart rocketed into his throat due to shock. He hadn't expected Sirius to be this _close_. He could smell the sweat emanating off of both their bodies, mixed with the musk of their animal counterparts that was coming from the floor, where their scent had been rubbed in.

Clearly, Sirius had woken up at some point after the werewolf had receded, as he was wearing his pants, although he was still shirtless.

Remus stared in envy at the muscle-padded body of his most sought-after companion, from his nearly six-pack abdominals, to his gently bulging biceps and well-formed pectorals. It made the werewolf hate his own scrawny, boney, scared physique even more. He ran a hand down his own side, pressing against his prominent hip joint and tickling the partially numb flesh of the scars that riddled his bare thighs.

Sirius' skin was tan and lightly freckled, as skin is apt to do when it is exposed to sunlight, pulled taught over his musculature. His face was faintly stubbled with the beginnings of a black goatee that he hadn't shaved in a few days, leading to a warm neck with a fairly prominent Adam's apple, although Remus knew his own to bulge much more unattractively from his skin-and-bones neck. The entirety of Sirius' body was clear of any repellent marks, much unlike Remus'.

Remus' skin was always pale, although it always became worse before, during and shortly after the full moon. The entirety of his body was covered in scars that, even though they were of an ivory shade, managed to stand out against his skin thanks to their strange, dead sheen. Among the scars scattered across his torso – including a horrible five-inch line that ran crossways along his stomach where he nearly disemboweled himself – was a thicker, black bite mark that wrapped around his right hip; it had been the cause of his entire condition, the one scar he refused to touch, or ever reveal to the world.

Without thinking about it, Remus allowed his fingers to dance up Sirius' side, into the crook of his armpit – stilling when the boy moved, most likely because he was ticklish there – and along the inside of his well-muscled arms until he came to the teen's face. Absently, he pushed a few loose strands off Sirius' forehead, running his fingers through the long, silky locks.

Why the hell was Sirius Black wasting time to play Transfiguration with a dangerous, hideous, scrawny, bookworm of a teen? It made sense that he had grown close with James; the two were almost eerily similar, and very dangerous when they got their heads together. But Remus … well… he felt more like a pity case, to be perfectly honest. Otherwise, all he was good for was random fact finding and being a shoulder to cry on, or an ear to whisper in.

A wave of insecurity washed over the already exhausted, pain-wracked boy, making him feel nauseous and utterly alone, until he fell back into the darkness of sleep.

* * *

Sirius had woken up halfway through the space of time between moonset and sunrise, waking up to a fully human Remus, who only had one, miniscule cut running the length from behind his ear to the base of his neck. Most of the bleeding appeared to have subsided, but hair and dust had gotten stuck to the bloody slash, and Sirius' conscience hadn't allowed him to just leave it as it was.

Careful not to press against the wound and wake his exhausted charge, Sirius had cautiously run his wand from tip to tip of the gash, watching the marvel of silvery skin threading the bloody scratch closed within seconds.

Once Remus had been taken care of, he had proceeded to pull on his pants and had attempted to pull on his shirt, but had promptly fallen back asleep, much too exhausted from his escapade the night before.

Now, however, when he awoke, he realized that the sun was much too bright, coming from too sharp of an angle.

"Shiste—Remus, wake up!" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet and yanking his arms into the sleeves of his wrinkly white shirt, before he realized there was no point- he had the Cloak; he could walk out stark naked, for Merlin's sake.

"Sirius… Wha's going on?" Remus grumbled; his words muffled by his chin being buried in the crook of his elbow.

"Remus, I've got to get out of here… Pomfrey will be here any minute—"

"Remus, dear! Are you awake?" Came a pleasant, wind-chime voice from somewhere downstairs. Sirius froze, cursing softly under his breath and looking beseechingly towards Remus. He had to say _something-_ the cloak was right in view of the door; there was no way that he could get anywhere near it without Pomfrey spotting him.

"Ah… Yes, Madame Pomfrey, I'm awake!" Remus exclaimed, leaping up and quickly reaching for his underwear and hastily yanking them up, a grimace of pain creasing his face. "But… ah- don't come up yet, please! I'm not quite dressed!"

Sirius felt his face flush warm at Remus' blunt, awkward statement, but was grateful when the other teen slowly closed the door and tossed the Cloak his way.

"So… I'll bring Prongs and Wormtail by the Hospital Wing later, eh, Moony?" Sirius whispered, throwing the Cloak around his shoulders and leaving naught but a disembodied head. Remus looked to go a little green around the gills for a moment before he nodded, sitting himself down on the bed with a tired sigh and a slow stretch.

"Th-thanks for staying with me, Sirius." Remus breathed, running a hand back and forth through his hair and scattering the short strands into a spiky ensemble, smiling winningly.

Sirius felt a pang of guilt that he couldn't be there to escort Remus to the Hospital Wing himself, but it was imperative that no one have even an inkling of what he and his cohorts had done for Remus.

"Of course, Moony." Sirius smiled, throwing the hood up over his head and disappearing.

* * *

On his way back to Hogwarts, Sirius took a detour through the basement of Honeydukes, grabbing a large 16oz bar of pure milk chocolate and sliding it under the cover of the Cloak before he began the steep climb back into the corridors of the school.

One back inside Hogwarts, Sirius dashed to get into the common room unnoticed, and managed to be laying sound asleep in his bed when that year's Head Boy came in – looking for Remus, of course – and left.

It had been a trying night, and Sirius would have liked nothing better than to continue lying in this bed of his all day, but he was sweaty and reeked of dog. Before James and Peter could bombard him with questions, Sirius managed to get a stall in the bathroom, toiletries tucked under one arm as he stripped his pants and socks off, tossing them haphazardly by the door. Steam was good for clothing, right?

The night kept playing over in his head- the moonlight, the feel of the chilling autumn wind in Padfoot's fur, feeling the family pull of being part of a pack. The werewolf had been extremely easy to control. Although Sirius was under the impression that the werewolf was dangerous, he couldn't seem to fathom the creature – especially since Remus was his other half – doing something that would hurt others; at least, never on purpose.

Sirius wished that more nights could be like last night; no need for Prongs at all, because the werewolf was so well behaved. Sure, Remus had one little mark—most likely from a rough branch that had been too low on the tree, from how it had looked.

When the water began to run cold, Sirius stepped out from the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, carrying his toiletries and used clothing back into the dormitory, where Peter and James stood, regarding him anxiously.

"How did it go?" James exclaimed, his eyes sparkling but his mouth set in a more serious expression.

"How many new scars do you have?" Peter asked, his voice low and cautious.

"It went off without a hitch, mates," Sirius purred, depositing his use clothing into a pile at the foot of his bed, grabbing a clean uniform, and closing the curtains around his bed.

"How did you get him to be so good, Pads?" James asked, his voice slightly muffled through the curtain.

"He just _was_, Prongs." Sirius admitted, shrugging to himself behind the curtain.

"So no new scars?" Peter asked again, sounding nearly disappointed. Sirius again felt the need to growl at the corpulent teen.

"_No_, Pete, no new scars. On me, anyway-"

"I thought you said it went off without a hitch!" James hissed suddenly. Sirius pulled back the curtain, tying a knot in his tie.

"There are no scars on _me_, Prongs," Sirius started, blowing a stray strand of hair from his face, "But Remus got a minor cut… most likely from a branch…"

"A BRANCH?" James cried, quickly catching himself and lowering his volume. "You took Moony _outside?!" _he hissed, his mouth falling slack in shock.

"He barely moved from my side, Prongs!" Sirius explained, raking a hand back through his slightly damp hair. "He was getting bored just romping around indoors… so I figured, you know, moonlit jog in the woods!" He tried to put a joking spin on the last words, but it did nothing to ice down James' fire-hot glare.

"You just _figured?_ Sirius, when will you ever think before you act?" James snapped angrily, raking a hand back through his spiky black hair. "This isn't just some fun weekend trip! Remus is a _person_, and he –or you—could be killed!"

Sirius glowered at the floor for a moment before he grabbed his shoes and socks, tugging both on haphazardly, tucking his wand into his pocket.

"Yes, well—everything went _fine_, James." Sirius growled childishly, "But if you'll excuse me, I have to get to class."


	4. Squabble

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Hey ya'll. I wish smileys worked with FF (dot) net. Anyway! This has been sitting on my hard drive a while, but I figured I'd let you guys have some time to absorb chapter 3 before I uploaded 4. More drama! Oh, boys.

* * *

* * *

When Remus awoke, cold and sore in the Hospital Wing, he couldn't shake off the strange memories of feelings from the night before, felt through the Wolf's senses.

He didn't feel any worse than normal; the usual expected sore muscles and scratches had become routine on his morning-afters. He could feel a bit of bandage and gauze running awkwardly down his neck, and the tawny-haired teen assumed that was his lone battle scar from the night before.

The Wolf had been rather placid last night, he remembered absently. The dreams he had woken from merely moments before hadn't been nearly as hyperactive and jumbled as standard; the visions of madness soothed into cool flashes of floorboards creaking beneath his massive paws, Padfoot, and moonlight streaming through branches…

Branches?

Remus paused and sat up a little straighter, amber eyes widening infinitesimally- even when alone, the mature boy wouldn't allow his emotions to play openly across his face; a Poker Face, as Sirius liked to call it.

Had the Wolf really been – he hated to even _imagine _it – _**outside?**_ Had Padf—had _Sirius_ really trusted him that much?

With a wince, Remus mentally scolded himself. Of course Sirius didn't _trust_ a bloodthirsty werewolf. He was _Sirius Black_, for Christ's sake—he had most likely forgotten what he was dealing with, and relaxed a little bit too much.

Remus bit anxiously at his lower lip. While he understood that the Wolf was clearly happy to have a friend of the canine variety, he now believed it not an entirely wonderful idea to have _just_ Padfoot watch over the Wolf. Prongs would be cautious; Peter would be a worrywart. While Sirius would complain that those two traits only combined into one large party pooper, the logical side of Remus (honestly, was there an illogical side to him?) knew those two traits to be immensely, wonderfully terrific at the right time.

The scrawny teen was startled out of his thoughts (on how to discuss what had transpired without making Sirius feel chastised) by Madame Pomfrey, who bustled over to him, carrying a tray of bandages and gauze and what looked like a nasty potion of some sort.

Remus attempted to sit up, but hissed as a red-hot poker raced down his neck, causing him to arch his back involuntarily. Pomfrey, seeing this, hurried over and gently took Remus' head, bending it ever so slightly forward so as to get access to the old bandages.

"My, my, Remus," she clucked, gingerly peeling back some sort of medical tape, "Your regeneration skills are quite something!"

Remus, who had been idly letting his mind wander, came back to himself and raised his brows in surprise.

"If I were any sort of _real_ mediwitch, I would set about finding a way to extract that skill and reproduce it magically."

Remus sat there, staring intently at the sterile white sheets, wincing slightly when the bandages were pulled tight over the gauze.

"What… uhm, what exactly do you mean?" he asked softly, turning his eyes to try and get a glimpse of his caretaker.

"This gash, on your neck--" she started, applying pressure to the bandages, "it must be at least a half-inch deep. But by the time I had you settled in here, the bleeding appeared to have long since stopped!"

The older witch tenderly leaned Remus back into the pillow, placing the used bandages onto the tray, and then handing Remus some sort of bubbling brew.

"For the muscle aches and bruised bones," she explained with a wry smile when she caught Remus' mask slip into an expression of dread. It hadn't been his fault, really; the Wolf had a terrifically, awfully good sense of smell.

He swallowed it down in one giant gulp, his eyes watering as the stench turned into a bitter, vile aftertaste. Yet, neither the sensation of the fiery potion sliding down his throat, nor the sudden absence of pain was enough to distract Remus from his serious thoughts.

If there was one thing that Remus knew, it was that his werewolf regeneration was not up to par with the damage he inflicted every full moon night. If that were the case, he would never need to come into the Hospital Wing to recuperate after a long night. A gash that deep would never have healed by the time Pomfrey came to escort him, which meant only one thing—

Sirius had healed him.

_øØø_

_As the train began to lurch into motion, Remus worriedly glanced over the edge of his book, waiting anxiously for a familiar face to poke into his train compartment._

_ Had they forgotten him? It had been a rather long summer, and Remus hadn't had much of a chance to write any of his newfound companions. Sirius couldn't be in want for a space to sit—any girl in the entire school (with the exception of most Slytherins) would gladly have shoved their seatmates off the train to make room for the dark-haired heir._

_ Remus again glanced over the edge of his book, his reading glasses sliding down his nose and resting against the top of the pages. _

_ Not even Peter, then? Oh, of course not. Peter was constantly loyal to James. Besides, what had Remus been to them all of first year but a shy, pathetic wet blanket that went missing more times than could be counted?_

_ Remus had always been one faltering, unsure step behind his comrades, at times going along simply because they where the only people he could talk to, and if he didn't go with them, where was the promise that they would come back?_

_ "Sirius, you arse, that's my robe you're stepping on!"_

_ "Here, James, let me take your owl."_

_ "Oh, Pete, stop being such a –"_

_ Remus' head shot up, the book off to his side and forgotten, as he caught sight of his three closest (only) companions pushing their way down the hallway and making their way into the train compartment. James' mouth was pushed wide with a smile as he began to speak,_

_øØø_

"Get out of here, Potter, Black, Pettigrew!" came a distinctly female voice, jolting Remus from his sleep, and giving the teen an excuse to cringe and hiss in pain.

"We're here to see Remus!" exclaimed Peter from somewhere out of Remus' sight, which wasn't hard to be, what with the curtain drawn tightly around his bed.

"Oh no you are not—the lot of you, out!"

"Aw, c'mon Ms. P! We're Remus' best mates! … Only ones he's got, really, but his best just the same!"

Remus cringed at Sirius' blunt words, made all the more painful by how true they were. He knew that Madame Pomfrey would have no excuse but to give in with that kind of logic-- as much as she wanted Remus to rest, she also had been there from the start to watch him slowly find friends.

There was a moment of silence, followed by an aggravated sigh, after which came the stampede of footsteps on the smooth white-and-black speckled marble floors.

"Remus!" James exclaimed, throwing back the curtains and smiling broadly. (Even without any sort of mischievous intent, James' smile always looked devious, Remus noted.)

"Hiya, Remus." Peter mumbled, his voice subdued in a polite manner as he smiled timidly, thick lips sealed together to prevent the exposure of his ever-so-slightly crooked teeth.

"Cheers, Moony!" A shaggy, black haired teen declared, leaping unto Remus' bed with no more grace than a whale throwing itself up and out of a tank of water. The box spring creaked audibly under the change in weight, but Sirius' infallible smirk never left his face.

"Glad to see you lot are in lovely spirits," Remus grumbled, hunkering under his sheets and allowing a small smile to grace his thin face. James settled himself in a spare chair to the side of Remus' bed, while Peter stood off to the side of James, hands behind his back.

"How was the prank?" Remus asked as Sirius lounged sideways across the bed, careful not to squash the occupant's legs.

"It went off without a single hitch—bloody _brilliant_… oh Pads, you would have loved it! I don't know about you, Mr. Prefect," James paused and stuck his tongue out childishly at Remus, drawing the stoic teen's face into a wider, warmer grin.

"A few of the first years ran from the room screaming at the whole skeleton bit," Peter added hastily, scratching the tip of his nose.

"Did you both get _days_ of detentions?" Sirius interjected, propping his head on his hand, lying on his side, facing the head of the bed "Scrubbing the floors in the potions room without magic?"

"No detentions, actually," James muttered, sounding as mystified as Sirius' face looked. "Dumbledore was quite impressed… he even gave us 10 more points."

"McGonagall must be furious," Remus guessed, laying his head back against the pillow.

"Well, yeah… You know how she never misses a single chance to land our arses in detention."

"Another for the Marauder record books," Sirius whistled, shaking his head. "Gods, I wish I could have been there!"

"I told you to leave," Remus muttered to himself, glaring down at the cold bed sheets.

"What's that, Remus?" Peter inquired, making Remus look up quickly, startled.

"I- ah, just… Just sorry that Pads and I couldn't see it," he fumbled, dismissing the portly teen's sympathy. "And … Well, I'm sure he and I missed out on all the great chocolate."

The boys shared a conspiratory chuckle at this line; chocolate was Remus' one and only true love. The jovial sound soon turned into an outcry of pain for Remus, the boy grasping his side and biting harshly down on his lower lip to quell the noises.

"Remus?" Pomfrey cried, the sound of her clipped footsteps creating a strange echo off the empty room as she stormed over and glared intensely at the four boys.

"Out! Now! The entire squadron of you ne'er do wells!" she hissed, glaring heatedly at each boy in turn. Peter and James leapt up, following the medical witch towards the entrance to the wing; Sirius suddenly jerked upright, reaching into the billowing folds of his robe.

"Blasted pockets," the shaggy-haired boy murmured – his black hair was nearly over his eyebrows, now. As he withdrew his hand, Remus took note of the rather large chocolate bar dangling daintily from his aristocratic fingertips, long since defiled of their cushy softness and replaced with time hardened calluses.

"Pads—" Remus started, glaring uselessly at Sirius, even as a wide smile broke his tired face apart.

"It was rather called for, Moons. Besides, don't we more than pay back ol' Honeyduke whenever we head out to Hogsmeade?" Sirius interrupted, reading Remus' mind with too much ease for the dusty brown-haired boy.

Remus sighed, gingerly taking the chocolate in his pale hands, jealously bubbling up when he was able to view their hands in comparison; Sirius' were tan and… well, _healthy_, whereas Remus' were pale and rather boney.

"Thank you, Sirius," Remus whispered, and, when he made eye contact with the black haired Animagus, it became clear that they both understood that he meant more than the chocolate.

* * *

Sirius ducked through the portrait hole and into the common room, fire blazing, the warm orange light emanating across the otherwise gray Gryffindor common room as the Black heir quickly glanced around.

Remus was perched in an armchair, knees curled under him as he took large bites out of one of the chocolate bars Sirius had given to the werewolf just over two weeks ago. On his lap, Remus turned the pages in what appeared to be a book that was being read for _academic_ purposes, which made Sirius grumble under his breath as he approached. One could never expect to find Remus Lupin far from a book at any given moment.

"Remus, mate!" Siuius exclaimed when he was but a foot or so away, reveling childishly in how Remus' started, his eyes wide as he turned his attention to the black haired teen. His usually warm amber eyes hardened as he glared tiredly at Sirius, making the Animagus feel slightly guilty. _Slightly_.

"Hello, Sirius," Remus muttered quickly, doing his best to angle himself away from Sirius and bury himself in his book. Sirius, not deterred in the least, perched himself on the right arm of the chair, messenger bag leaning against his leg.

"_Fear of the Dark; What to do if facing against Dark Arts_?" Sirius read, his head cocked at a sideways angle to read the spine, "Honestly, Remus, you study _too much_." He sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm a _Prefect_ this year, Mr. Black. I don't have time for foolish shenanigans."

Honestly- Sirius couldn't remember the last prank that Remus had been a part of. Then again, most of their pranks recently had been targeted at Snape, thanks to James' growing obsession with Lily Evans. Remus had made it clear from the beginning that he wasn't going to help his companions in torturing Snape… probably because he thought it would harm his chances at becoming – and keeping the title of – Prefect.

"Being a bore is different from you not wanting McGonagall to realize how 'up to no good' you really are," Sirius reprimanded playfully, shaking his head.

"Exactly," Remus agreed, gazing up at Sirius with a knowing smile gently pulling at the corners of his ashen face, "So, Sirius… what brings you to the common room _before curfew_ on a Sunday eve?"

"I thought you'd never ask, Moony," Sirius exclaimed, quietly tacking on Remus' nickname with a wide grin.

Before Sirius could even begin to explain his predicament, the aristocratic wizard watched Remus' smile falter; his eyes narrow in suspicion. While Remus had always been good at reading people, he'd become very adept at knowing exactly what every minute facial expression meant among his three companions.

Not allowing the scrawny werewolf a second to interrupt, Sirius quickly continued.

"You see, Slughorn assigned us this _horrible_ essay on the uses of rat's tails. We have to explain _why_ in Merlin's bloomers wizards first thought they would be a useful addition to recipes, and then we have to explain why we _still_ use rat's tails in potions--"

"Yes, Sirius, I'm well aware of the prompt for Tuesday's essay," Remus quipped, closing his book with a loud snap that nearly – _nearly - _made Sirius nervous.

"—And I've got this date with Alice, you know, that one that Frank Longbottom was dating for a bit… she's actually using me to get Frank jealous, which I think is a rather wonderful idea. But I've got to get his essay done. Now, I've gotten _where_ the blasted tails came from—"

"They come from **rats** Sirius," Remus interrupted dryly, sounding rather tired and cross and I-really-would-like-to-be-left-to-read-my-book, but Sirius simply snapped back,

"Not _that, _you bloody ninny. Anyway, I've still got to find out why we still use the wriggling things. Have you finished yours?"

"Yes, actually, and the—" Remus stopped short, and then glared exasperatedly at Sirius, which withered Sirius' grand tirade. "You're going to get me one day, Sirius. I was rather close that time- really, I should know better than to even let you explain. Do your own essay, you git. Honestly, you, Prongs and Wormtail figure out one of the most complicated—"

"And illegal," Sirius bent at the waist and whispered the reminder in Remus' ear quickly, grinning secretively. The animagus watched a warm blush run up Remus' neck at the close proximity; Remus still was rather skittish about personal space.

"Y-yes, that too," the werewolf continued, "And yet you can't just sit your arse down in the Library and do a little _research?_"

Remus had angled himself further away from Sirius, knees still tucked tightly underneath him as he opened his book again, clearly intent upon ignoring Sirius completely.

"Remus, you're quiet a wet blanket at times, do you know that?" Sirius hissed, raking a hand back through his long black hair before moving to sit in another chair and work on his essay.

"…Where're Jamesn'Peter?" Remus asked suddenly, and Sirius definitely did not like that the way Remus said it made the two sound like their names were just one solid word; one entity.

From the start, Sirius had realized that Peter was a wormy sort, weaving his way in on James' robe ends, laughing at the spectacled wizard's every joke, worshipping the very ground James walked on— it all made Sirius rather sick. While Sirius couldn't hold the entire Animagus thing against Peter, he could blame it all on his want to do whatever in Merlin's name James did. Sirius knew full well that if James jumped off a bridge, Peter would gladly follow. Unfortunately, because of his stellar, kiss-bum behavior, only Sirius seemed to have picked up a dislike for the corpulent, greasy rat.

"James is off trying to woo Evans... either that, or he's pranking Snivellus."

"You'd figure Prongs would've learned by now that he's not _earning _points by doing the latter," Remus sighed. Everyone knew that Remus disagreed greatly with the marauders treatment of Snape… or at least, he'd come to think so. In his first years, when Remus had been an overeager ball of friendship, he had enthusiastically contributed ideas to the torture of the Slytherin wizard. But as he grew older, and realized – while even _James_ remained lost – that Snape was a dear friend of Lily's and was not to be trifled with, he'd stepped back from the pranking and nearly become _friends_ with the bird.

Sirius shrugged at Remus' comment, pressing his quill gingerly to the page, "Well, he's _James_, Moony. Don't expect too much of 'im. I think Peter is off in the library… probably obsessing over Herbology."

Sirius chanced a glance at Remus, catching the other Marauder's eye over the book. He watched as Remus stuffed a square of chocolate into his mouth and finally looked away; the scarred boy was always the one to look away first.

"Hogsmead coming up," Sirius mentioned loftily, scribbling a note about how the rats nearly were nearly killed off by muggles when the plague broke out, centuries ago.

"Mmm?" came Remus' distant hum of a reply, his eyes glued to the pages of his book.

"You're running low on chocolate, Remus," Sirius explained, smiling and rolling his eyes when Remus finally looked up. "So we'll have to get you some on the upcoming Hogsmeade trip."

For a moment, Sirius sat stock still anxiously as Remus' gaze turned calculating, running from his head to his toes. Remus was trying to read him.

"Mm-hmm. Yeah, alright Sirius." The werewolf said after a long moment, before his buried his face in the pages of his book, and didn't look up.

* * *

At breakfast, nearly a week and a half later, the four marauders sat nestled around their plates of warm bacon, eggs, toast and hot chocolate – a special treat, because it'd been so cold of late.

James, in full Chaser garb, was animatedly talking with some of his teammates down the table, while at the same time managing to stuff ungodly amounts of food down his throat.

Sirius was also animatedly talking with a gaggle of girls; most of the female population at Hogwarts had come to admire Sirius' looks or stature at some point, although Remus was happy to say that it hadn't gone entirely to the other boy's head… yet. Granted, Sirius couldn't beat the girls away with a troll's club, but if there was one thing Sirius thrived on, it was attention.

Peter, the quietest of the group, was eating food at a pace nearly to double James'—the portliest of the boys was always ready to go whenever James was, even if it meant aspirating on a mouthful of pumpkin juice.

Remus, for his own sanity, was eating rather slowly, reveling in the chaos that reigned around him, yet did not absorb him. He felt a part of life; James would continually turn to Remus, ask some sort of question relating to quidditch, and then quickly turn back to his teammates and cry out a childish,

"See? I was right! Remus said so!"

Sirius, who kept on glancing beseechingly at Remus, begging him to say 'Sirius, didn't you leave that…' or 'Sirius, we really must go…', but, although the werewolf would never admit it to anyone, he enjoyed watching Sirius squirm every once in a while.

Remus and Peter, for their part, merely exchanged knowing glances across the table. It was as typical a weekend as any, with the added excitement of a quidditch game against their archrivals, the Slytherins.

Unfortunately, because of the added incentive – and green flag – to be a little bit nastier to their green classmates, Remus knew that it wouldn't be long before words began to fly between James and Snape. It would mean that Remus, on top of his already daunting job of being the mother hen to his rowdy group of friends, would also have to play Prefect. He really didn't want to have to deduct points from his own house on the day of a match.

Ever alert, Remus stood from the table as the rest of his friends did- James grouping closer to his team, Sirius batting the girls away with promises that he'd be at the match, and Peter scampering off behind James.

As Remus and Sirius together moved to follow the Gryffindor team into the hallway, the green-and-silver glimmering Slytherins seemed to apparate in the entryway. As the two teams passed, the air was tense and crackling with anger, which only served to make Remus more anxious.

With James in the lead – James always lead – the entire group that had trouble fitting abreast in the hallway turned a corner and stopped short, a low oath uttered from ahead.

"Watch where you're going, Snivellus,"

At the harsh, jeering comment, Remus quickly pulled away from Sirius and pushed his way through the thick band of people that made up the team, trying to shut James up before this could escalate.

As he made his way past the last of the throng, he could see James, standing point center and a foot or so in front of the others, shoulders thrown back stiffly as he glared at Severus Snape.

Snape was nearly as tall as James, now, and his hair had begun to rival Sirius' in length, although it appeared to have a more oily quality. His skin had always been an ashen pale – not white, but severely lacking in color. His dark, black eyes, faintly slanted and constantly narrowed in apprehensive aggression, were focused on James' face. His hands were concealed in his robes, and it made Remus nervous. Snape was well known for inventing his own curses and charms.

"You were the one who came around the corner first, Potter," Snape murmured offhandedly, appearing to all the world like he couldn't care less what James said to him. Somewhere to his left, Remus became aware of Sirius' presence.

"I'm not in the mood for your _face_ today, Snivelly," James hissed nastily, pressing two fingers to his temple in a show of having a headache, which, of course, Remus knew he didn't have. "Move."

Remus noticed the barely perceptible twitch at the corner of Severus' eye, his upper lip curling rather unattractively. Remus fingered his Prefect's badge absently, turning to look to Sirius for support. As per normal, the Black heir was simply standing there, horribly dark grin lighting up his sculptured face. Merlin, this was going to end badly- he just knew it. Turning back to the lead prankster, Remus began to try and talk him out of any sort of confrontation.

"Jame—"

"LANGLOCK!"

The cry was so sudden, so piercing, the silence afterwards rung faintly in Remus' ears. The entire hallway was hushed, Remus rushing over to inspect James, who looked no worse for wear; he wasn't on fire, he wasn't bleeding, and none of his body –at least that could be seen- was a strange color. Everyone seemed to take a step back as they waited to see what the unheard-of spell had done.

"James?"

"Ah ou!" came the muffled reply, James opening his mouth widely and showing all around him that his tongue was neatly stuck to the top of his mouth. Remus sighed with relief- who could really complain about a _quiet_ James, after all – but still had to play the role of Prefect, even if it was in order to admonish a student from another house.

"Densaugeo!"

"Bloody—Sirius!" Remus whirled around just in time to see Sirius give a wave of the wand. Turning around in what felt like slow motion, Remus watched as Snape's teeth began to grow, until he had horribly large, biscuit-sized buckteeth and couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Ah-uh-oy!" James exclaimed happily, walking over to clap Sirius a high-five.

"Expelliarmus!" Remus cried, a red streak blasting all three of the teen's wands far out of reach. With a wordless flick of his own wand, Remus summoned the three other wands into his hands, where he held them tightly and turned to look upon the three with open disdain.

"While I shan't deny that James was a right prick, hexing another student is not acceptable, Severus," Remus started, hating the parental tone to his voice. "Sirius," the werewolf turned to his companion, shaking his head. "Because you were fighting _back_ – and because I'm doing the same to Slytherin – 10 points from both Gryffindor."

Sirius made a move to open his mouth, but Remus quickly cut him off, turning around to face James.

"Quite frankly, James, you don't need your tongue to play Quidditch. I'm not worried about the lasting affects. Severus…" he paused, looking at Snape but doing his best to avoid eye contact. "I suggest you go to Pomfrey and get those teeth looked at. I'm telling McGonagall, and she'll likely tell Slughorn."

Gingerly, Remus handed them all back their wands, waiting for the tension to break.

Remus could feel the team's eyes boring into his back; it wasn't often that Remus Lupin opened his mouth and berated other students. Severus looked rather miffed as he moved away, but Remus liked to think that it was more directed at James, Sirius, and the embarrassing situation than he himself. James managed to look rather guilty as he pushed by Severus with no more than a grunt, affectively pulling the team with him.

But, Sirius…

"How could you _do that,_ Remus?" Sirius hissed. Remus shrugged, standing awkwardly, tucking his own wand back into his pocket, his earlier bravado suddenly sucked away.

"I have to do my job, Sirius." He replied quietly, firmly.

"You sided with that slimy bugger!" Sirius reiterated, glaring.

"I was fair with both houses. To be honest, I should have taken more from Gryffindor, since your behavior was far from necessary," Remus snapped, glaring right back.

"'Far from necessary'?! Moony, listen to yourself! By God, you sound like my blasted _mother_!"

The insult weight heavily on Remus' heart, for there were few in his life that Sirius hated more than his mother.

"Sirius—"

"I can't stand much more of this, Remus. You used to be _fun. _You used to ground us in reality, not in _detention_. I mean, we can't even Manage Mischief with you around anymore. This is _Snivellus_ we're talking about here."

"The only reason you don't like Severus is because James doesn't. The only reason James dislikes Severus is because he's jealous of he and Lily's friendship! Attacking Snape just harms his chances—besides, I think it's unjustly cruel. Lily is Severus' only true friend, and you hate him simply because of that."

"Merlin Moony! Get off your high Hippogryph and remember that you used to prank along with us!"

"Yeah, but then I had to grow up, Sirius. I had to clean up after you lot. You think I _like_ cleaning up after you? You think I _like_ playing mother hen? Just because I'm mature and like to use my bloody moral compass once in a blue moon doesn't make me less of a friend!" Remus shouted, his voice echoing off the deserted hallways. Distantly, the werewolf could hear cheering fans.

"We never _asked_ you to be our bloody nanny, Remus. At least every _full moon_ you loosen up," Sirius snapped.

Ice trickled down Remus' spine as he whipped his head around – he'd started to walk towards McGonagall's office – glancing unbelievingly at his shaggier companion. It wasn't fair that such a simple reference could get his goat that badly. With a horribly loud gasp, Remus could feel a disastrous betraying tear sliding down his cheeks.

"Ah… Remus-"

"No, Sirius. I get it. The moody Prefect werewolf is getting to be a bit much. It's alright. It's natural, really. Purebreds aren't meant with mix with mutts," Remus grumbled, his voice so void of _anything_ that he was actually scaring himself. Before he could ramble on further, Remus left, walking slowly and collected until he turned the corner, and ran helter-skelter up the stairs.

* * *

The Quidditch game went rather well.

At least, it sounded like it had gone rather well.

From his position, sitting with his knees pulled to his chest upon his bed, curtain pulled closed around him, Remus could hear raucous cheering and some sort of song being sung rather badly down in the Common Room.

He'd have to go down there, and soon, whether or not he liked it. McGonagall hadn't been happy about James' little stunt, and he knew that she'd call him, Sirius and Severus into her office before the evening was over.

A smell of _burning_ wafted into Remus' nostrils, and the werewolf knew that he really did have to go downstairs now, because if the Common Room got burnt to ashes with him sitting calmly upstairs as he waited to die of smoke inhalation, McGonagall wouldn't be pleased.

With a low grunt and the popping of a few joints, Remus slid out of his bed and pushed back the curtains before he ventured closer to the door, throwing it open as he threw back his shoulders, working to pull himself together.

He felt rather like a wallowing _girl_, to be perfectly honest. Sirius had never been one to be careful with his words, and Remus' Lycanthropy had always been a touchy subject, but, by the same token, Remus had never felt so wounded by a simple statement.

As he rounded the last bend in the stairs, the cheers of nearly the entire Gryffindor house accosted Remus' ears. James- who must have gone to the Hospital Wing -along with the rest of the team, was clearly recounting the tale for what must have been the millionth time. Every girl in the room seemed to be swooning in a circle around the players- although Remus smugly noticed that Lily Evans was lacking from the throws of celebration.

The burning smells seemed to be emanating from a group of 3rd Years, who had somehow procured some variation of Firewhiskey, which seemed to grant one the ability to _breathe fire_. Remus quickly strode over and confiscated the bottle, with nary a noise from the offended party. For better or for worse, most of Gryffindor knew to respect Remus when it came to his Prefectly duties, even though he kept it no secret that he was a part of the greatest prankster group to ever grace Hogwarts.

As he continued his way around the perimeter of the Common Room, Remus suddenly found that Peter was walking alongside him, shoving Chocolate Frogs and Bertie's Beans into his mouth in large, sloppy handfuls.

"I take it we won the match, then?" Remus-half shouted, amiably, towards his portlier companion.

"We had the lead on 'em from the get-go," Peter yelled back, the din of laughter becoming nearly deafening. "James said he was just '_waiting for the right time'_ to bag the Snitch."

Remus rolled his eyes at James' arrogant behavior. There was a reason Lily Evans held very little interest in him.

"Where's Sirius?" Remus asked as they neared the staircase. It hadn't been the topmost question on his list, but he was beginning to wonder.

"He's still miffed over the whole Snape thing," Peter shrugged half-heartedly, glancing apologetically at Remus. "Probably ran off to wallow with a pretty bird."

Remus rubbed absentmindedly at his chest, surveying the room with empty eyes, his feet on autopilot. Despite he and Sirius' vast differences, Remus was quick to admit that the Black heir was his only close friend. James was Sirius' best friend, comrade, and fellow prankster. Remus and Sirius had a much less brotherly relationship; they had always played off each other well. Sirius had never been truly scared when Remus had openly admitted to being afflicted with Lycanthropy, while Remus hadn't been one to judge Sirius based on his family's values. (In all honesty, Remus had barely known anything about the Black family, aside from their wealth and fame, which his father had once mentioned in passing).

It would have been true to state that without Sirius, Remus was rather on his own. James would probably still be angry at Remus, although James was never good at staying mad with anyone, aside from Snape, so Remus was fairly sure he wouldn't be in too much of a bind. Peter was always cordial to all the marauders, even though Sirius had never been one to hide his loathing for the portly teen. While Remus was comforted that Pettigrew was staying neutral in this entire ordeal, he'd never bonded with the other boy as well as he had with Sirius, or even James, and thus wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of having only he or James to talk to.

Presently, the Prefect realized that he'd made a full circle, and Peter was prattling on about some sort of Herbology topic about which Remus didn't really _care_, to be perfectly, coarsely honest. He was exhausted, and was fairly certain he had a Transfiguration exam tomorrow, and he'd been trying hard to study, but he had a feeling his mind would wander rather horribly tomorrow.

"Sorry, Pete, but I'm really beat," Remus interjected, glad to see that Peter was not angry; rather, he looked achingly sympathetic.

"Alright, mate," the boy paused, opening his mouth and holding it open for a moment, awkwardly, before he finally spoke, "An' don't worry about Sirius, okay, Rem? I think you were right smart to punish him. He tends to act like a spoiled, rotten brat sometimes, and _someone_ has to reign him in."

Remus smiled weakly; Peter's words did little to cheer him, but the sentiment was greatly appreciated. With a small wave, Remus retreated into the boy's dormitory. Truthfully, Remus had never _wanted_ to take care of Sirius. He'd never wanted to take care of any of his friends; he dearly missed the days when he could be carefree and do pranks. The lycanthropy had begun to take a toll, though, and Remus was growing more and more exhausted in the wake of each moon, and becoming a Prefect was a good way to keep in his teachers' good graces. From the start, he'd never featured prominently in the Marauder's pranks, mostly because he got enough attention being best mates with James and Sirius, but also because he didn't _want_ to be surrounded by attention and _people_.

Sirius and James thrived in attention. Remus, who was shy and quiet by nature and necessity, tended to make a grand fool of himself when he got under the spotlight, and thusly avoided it.

James, the forerunner of Marauding, created reasons for people to look at him. Hence, pranks. He'd always been the treasure in his parent's eyes, as he was their only child, and a son to boot. There was a class-clown air about him, although that jovial innocence and desire to be liked had quickly morphed in a large ego and slightly vicious streak, which was beginning to worry Remus, if he were to be honest.

Sirius, on the other hand, very much _demanded_ attention. It had been scandal enough that a Black heir –first born and all that- had been sorted into Gryffindor, causing students to gravitate towards this mysterious anomaly. His regal upbringing made him carry himself with a refined posture, dressed in brand-new robes and silk button-up shirts, and the girls threw themselves at him. He didn't _try_ for attention; really… it just seemed to appear in the space around him. He didn't need the acceptance, as much as James did – well, no, that wasn't quiet true.

Remus paused at the foot of his bed, where he'd been folding and putting away laundry in his trunk. That wasn't very true at all, when he thought about it; the two were simply different.

James _needed_ attention, because he'd been raised on it. There was no other way of life for him. People had always loved him and fawned over him at home, so he had to be sure that here at school, everyone else did the same.

However, for Sirius, no one had ever fawned over him. From a young age, his family had treated him with cold indifference. Sirius pegged it up to them being utter arseholes- Remus, eternally optimistic about people, liked to think that it was simply the way that old, rich wizarding families knew to raise their children. Whatever the case, Sirius did need the attention, but it wasn't his lifeblood, as it was James'. The attention made him feel good, made him feel loved and accepted, and he desperately needed to have his loveless years of life made up for.

Downstairs, there was a particularly violent cheer, and then the air grew sharply still and silent, before a tiny knock sounded on the door to Remus' dorm.

Intrigued, Remus rolled off of his bed and opened the door, barely startled by the sight of a little bird, clear and seemingly made of goblet-crystal.

"Mr. Lupin, your presence is requested in my office immediately," the bird chirped in McGonagall's voice. "I already informed Potter and Black. Oh, watch out- this will loose it's shape in a moment, please catch it."

Remus started at the sudden shift, as the bird suddenly shrunk in on itself and became a crystal tumbler. Before he could so much as make the leap from _Oh, Merlin_, the cup plummeted to the floor and shattered into tiny glistening pieces.

"Bugger all," Remus muttered, before he withdrew his wand and cast a hasty _reparo._

_If only all problems were so easily fixed_, he thought absently as he tucked the once-again-whole glass into his pocket.

* * *

What Sirius had said to Remus had been unforgivable, he knew that now- they'd been angry, and said things they didn't mean. They'd said some important things, however, and Sirius was currently trying to think of a way to apologize for being an utter git, and yet not take back some of his comments… in a friendly way. He knew that Remus would understand – Remus _always_ understood – but he wasn't too keen on the whole conversation.

"Mr. Black,"

Sirius jolted back to attention, flicking his eyes up out of the roaring fireplace and unto McGonagall's face.

"Yes, ma'am?" His voice was silk smooth and honey sweet, but McGonagall wasn't a novice when it came to Sirius Black.

"We were just discussing how to best punish you boys for what you did to poor Severus."

"Poor Severus? Professor-"

"I know he threw the first hex, Black. And I may have been willing to let it slide with a simple lecture, but then you had to throw the returning spell. All that aside, you and Potter really _must_ stop this antagonizing of Severus. Dumbledore, Slughorn, the majority of the staff and I have been very lenient with you lot and your pranks, but we have to draw the line _somewhere." _

She paused for a moment and fixed them all with a stern frown, before turning and smiling dazzlingly at Remus.

"I understand that it must have made you unpopular, Lupin, but myself and Slughorn are appreciative that you were willing to put your duties and morals above your 'mates' for a moment."

Sirius glared openly across at Remus, who was sitting on the other side of McGonagall's desk, as if he were a bloody professor at Hogwarts. James, for his part, seemed rather unphased… then again, he had had a lot of Butterbeer, so Sirius said a silent prayer that he wasn't running his mouth.

"You two shall serve detention for a week with Slughorn, and are not allowed to pull any pranks – in his class or otherwise – until that detention is over. If it makes you feel any better, Severus is serving detention in my care."

"Give 'im a good run, 'Gonagall," James piped up, but Sirius quickly jabbed an elbow into the other boy's ribs, effectively silencing him.

"…Yes, well. I believe I'll let you go, as you seemed to be the life of that party." Her voice was heavy with scorn, although a very small smile was playing at the corner of her mouth. Sirius hauled James to his feet and pushed him towards the exit, turning back once through the doorway in time to catch Remus handing some sort of crystal goblet over to McGonagall. Odd. Must be some sort of Prefect thing.


	5. Apology

**Author's Note:** Hey everyone! Uhm, long time no see, eh? /shot. WELL. Have some HP stuff to keep you entertained. On a side note! Two things; 1. If you have not already done so, check out my Dreamwidth account. It's Lickskillet(dot)Dreamwidth(dot)com. 2. I start college in less than a week! I'm sorry, but that might mean some major delays. Or it may mean an amazing onslaught of creative juices. You never know.

* * *

* * *

Try as hard as he might, there was no way that Remus could stay angry with Sirius. Within a week following their hallway pre-Quidditch screaming match, Remus woke up and, with startling clarity, realized that he was no longer furious with the other boy. He could only bring up vague feelings of irritation, but even those emotions were blunted along the edges with affection. Sirius was well known for running his mouth and not taking the time to put a mental filter in place. It'd gotten him in trouble before, and Remus knew that this would hardly be the last time.

Unfortunately, he couldn't bring himself to apologize. No matter how much he _wasn't_ angry with Sirius, Sirius was still angry with _him_, and until he was able to drop his side of the grudge, there'd be no getting through to him. How could Remus apologize? What he'd done had been _right_. James and Sirius had only just finished their detention with Slughorn, and while the house leader wasn't known for being mean, detention was still detention, even more so to free spirits like those two.

However, with a full moon only two weeks away, Remus knew that there had to be some sort of apology-and-acceptance moment, or he'd be facing an abandoned shack in the middle of winter. As it was, there was a trip to Hogsmeade scheduled the next day, and Remus was banking on the out-of-school trip to break the ice enough as to allow for words to be said, and friendships to be mended.

* * *

Sirius didn't know what to _do_, really. He'd never _really_ been mad at the sorry git… He and James had been the ones to start things up, and Remus hadn't truly done anything _wrong_. When he put himself up for the role of Prefect, he'd known exactly what he was in for. In a way, Sirius supposed he was proud of his scrawny mate, who'd gone from a cowering, withdrawn mess to a brave, bold young man willing to face the consequences of doing what's right. It was somewhat saddening, to watch his fledgling fly. Even as he gave himself a mental slap across the face at such a sappy thought, he knew it to be true. He wasn't ready for Remus to be his own person, to be able to handle himself, to be able to _stand up_ to his peers and friends. Remus no longer _needed him_.

Sitting at his desk, trying in vain to transform a slab of wood into an intricate china tea-serving tray – although, honestly, he wasn't even really working at it – Sirius berated himself for such a cold thought. Of course Remus needed him. He needed Sirius, and James, and even ol' Pete. Every full moon he needed them, and every morning after. Every week building up, as he grew restless and angry and anguished and the self-loathing began to build a fire in his gut. Every time, he came to Sirius. At the end of the day, Remus and Sirius were similar- so much more similar than he and James, actually. Sirius knew what it was to hate your very _essence_. To know exactly the parts of you that you love and the parts that you hate; to wish with all your might that you could just reach inside and _pull_, or point a wand and _obliterate_. They'd grown up with lives so different, but each spinning on that same pin-point spot, so they had come together like rogue magnets, finding each other against all odds, attracting because of similarities, not differences.

To say that Remus needed Sirius was to say that the plants required sturdy soil and constant care from Mother Nature to live. To say that Sirius required Remus to function was to ask if the oceans needed the moon to pull and push them. He couldn't truly see it, but sometimes the profoundness of it would overcome him in a wave that left him panting, the vastness so close but not quite attainable- still out of his grasp, just right outside his reach.

So, of course, Sirius felt like a horrendous arsehole every time he and Remus were in the same room and didn't speak- every time they passed and didn't nod, or smile. Every time they sat at their same spots at the table, James and Peter trying so hard to bridge the gap and Sirius playing stubborn codger, cocking up every chance he had to say a simple _sorry_.

And then, a light at the end of his tunnel of po-faced misery came the trip to Hogsmeade.

He would make things right with Remus. He just had to.

* * *

There wasn't a student on campus that didn't love Hogsmeade. Although, Snivelly most likely had decided that it was a bah-humbug worthy excursion, knowing how sour and depressing that boy was.

The previous night, a thin layer of white powder had dusted the grounds, leaving everything under a perfect canvas, which slowly began to be dotted by footprints headed into the local town.

Although relations had been stressed, the four Marauders chose to go to Hogsmeade together. Peter and Remus had moved farther ahead, exiting the main gates from Hogwarts, leaving James and Sirius behind.

"Please tell me you're going to be _doing_ something today, Sirius." James hissed as soon as the other boys were out of earshot.

"As a matter of fact, I did, _Jamesy_, and I don't need you pestering me. This is a delicate project."

"Delicate is right! What in bloody _Hell_ were you thinking anyway? Calling Remus off and mocking his lycanthropy!" James jabbed, his words harsh and cutting.

"I was _stupid_ and _angry_, James. What else do you want? What else does _he _want?" The final comment was muttered in Remus' general direction as Sirius scanned and found the other boy in the crowd, a grungy gray scarf pulled tight about his shoulders and face. "So yes, I'm going to grovel and admit that I'm the biggest berk ever to walk the halls of Hogwarts, and I didn't mean a word, and yadda yadda. Are you pleased now, Mother? I do promise to make up with _brother dearest _and never ever fight with him _ever_ _again_."

"Merlin but you're cheeky this morning," James grumbled dryly, looking away over the expanse of glittering white. "Go. Go serenade our Remus and make him love you again. I'm going to sway Lily into not hating with all the contents of her guts."

With a lovely mental image to play behind his eyes, Sirius grunted in reply and pulled his long coat tighter, popping up the collar and marching through the snow, leaving empty footprints in his wake.

oOo

Of course the moment Sirius had taken his eyes off of Remus, the other wizard had all but disappeared. He passed by Peter, who had stopped to speak with some unassuming Hufflepuff girl - and she actually appeared to be somewhat _into him_. It was equal parts heartwarming and slightly nauseating. When that lead had ended up going nowhere – Peter just was able to confirm that Remus had gone into Hogsmeade, but that was nothing Sirius couldn't determine for himself – he continued to follow the crowd, hoping he'd run into the other boy eventually.

He started at The Three Broomsticks, merely poking a head in and looking across the patrons, but was unable to find Remus among the crowd. Meandering down the road – and throwing a passing glance down the trodden path leading to The Shack – Sirius continued to search. There weren't many students out of the streets, most huddled inside the stores, keeping out of the cold if not buying as much as their pockets could hold.

It was in front of Honeydukes that Sirius finally found Remus, hunched shoulders up nearly to his ears, bony hands shoved deep in his pockets, ratty scarf pulled up across his chin and mouth. His eyes were glued to the window, looking past the display to the lot of students inside. There was something warm and happy to his face; something yearning and yet taking pleasure in the pleasure of others. Such a _Remus_ face to make, and Sirius felt his chest tighten as he realized this was the first time he'd been able to look at Remus like this since their stupid, stupid fight. He cleared his throat.

"Ah, Remus…" As Sirius spoke, Remus spun around, hands pulling free from his pockets and scarf falling away from his face. His startled exhale created a plume of thin white cloud, which quickly spiraled upwards and disappeared. Without the scarf, Sirius could see how his face and nose were bright red from the cold, his lips pale and cracked.

"Sirius," Remus replied, brows flat and mouth pulled into a tight line. His voice wasn't exactly cold, but it wasn't the warmth that Sirius was used to hearing.

"Before you get angry, please, just listen."

Surprisingly enough, Remus' tense shoulders slumped immediately, his angry face transforming into the Remus that Sirius knew so well.

"Well, go ahead."

"First of all, Remus… I'm not sorry I hexed Snape," Sirius murmured, bracing for the anger. Instead, all he got was a tired sigh as Remus leaned his shoulder against the windowpane of Honeydukes, and thrust his chin out gently in a sign to continue. "I mean… I understand that it wasn't too nice of me, yeah, but I'll stand by James to the end, and Sniv—and _Snape_ knew what was coming his way when he threw that first hex."

"I… Shite, I hate to say this, Sirius – and you're going to use it against me someday, Merlin do I know it – but that's something I can respect. I don't—" Remus paused, looking out over the snow and away from Sirius with such a ferocious gleam in his eyes that Sirius felt himself quiver. "Well, you know how I feel about the whole Snape thing," he finished, shrugging and looking back at Sirius. "But. You're a stubborn git and you didn't really _hurt_ him. Anyway, you have more to add?"

Sirius stood there, stunned. Remus _wasn't_ going to rail on him for attacking Snape? He even managed to not sound like a total arsehole when he asked if Sirius still had more to say. Instead, he managed to sound genuinely curious, like he was sorry he'd interrupted.

"I. Uh, yeah. Second of all, you need to know, Remus, that I didn't mean _a single thing_ I said about you and your… lycanthropy." Remus flinched, bodily. "You _know_ me, Remus. I say stupid things. I'm not excusing myself, but I'm simply reminding you." He smiled winningly, but Remus still stared at him with vacant eyes. "Please, Remus, believe me. I understand that this isn't easy for you, and I understand that I'll never really understand. I just… It's like, when I'm having an argument with someone, my brain goes right for their weak spot and twists a knife in. I _don't_ think you're any more fun when the full moon comes on. I know that you're scared of it, of how you're not _you_, and I. I'm sorry. I truly, really am."

Christ, if that wasn't the most buggered apology ever delivered by anyone ever. Sirius screwed his mouth up in embarrassment, wrinkling his nose and narrowing his eyes at his own feet.

"Sirius… On Halloween, when you came with me to The Shack, did you. I mean… did you heal that cut on my neck?"

Sirius started, his gaze shooting up to meet Remus'.

"Ah. Uh. Yeah, yeah I did. You just had a little scrape, but there was all this shite in there, and I thought, since it was so small…" He clamped his mouth shut a moment, stopped his rambling. "Yes, Remus, I did."

Remus sighed, ran a hand back through his straw hair, puffing out his cheeks as he exhaled.

"We're in a deep bloody mess, Sirius, you know that?" To be honest, Sirius didn't _really_ get it – well, there was the whole illegal animagi thing, and the 'most of the world wants werewolves dead' thing, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. Suddenly, Remus' face broke into a small, closed-lip smile. "Anyway, how about you buy me some chocolate, and we call it even?"

Sirius laughed then, laughed hearty and loud, and it felt so much less cold and scary now that Remus wasn't mad at him. There was something so much _worse_ about everything when he and Remus weren't running smoothly. He acquiesced, grabbing hold of Remus' hand and pulling him inside, momentarily shocked by how cold the other boy's hands were, before he was being yanked over to a container of chocolate frogs.

oOo

Once they'd stocked up on enough chocolate to choke a hippogryph, Sirius convinced Remus to head over to The Three Broomsticks. By some sheer stroke of luck, they arrived in tandem with James and Peter, so the four of them sat at a booth and sipped Butterbeer until they could feel their fingers, as well as a warm fluttering sensation in their stomachs.

Sirius was tucked in beside Remus, their bodies pressed close due to the size of the booth. Gradually, Sirius could feel a change in Remus' body temperature, from freezing to lukewarm to toasty, and could simultaneously feel how he began to relax, his spine loosening as he leaned forward unto his elbows to discuss something animatedly with Peter; probably something school related. As for himself, Sirius was being subjected to a play-by-play of what James had managed to get into with Lily.

"I walked with her all the way to the entrance of town, mate, and she never glowered at me or hit me or hexed me or… or anything!" James' face was aglow with more than just the warmth of the Butterbeer, his limbs loose as he all but laid his face against the slightly sticky wood of the tabletop. "It was _Heaven,_ Sirius. I could look her right in the eye and she didn't hate me, for a moment. She almost laughed at something I said, too! …Or she might have been laughing at me almost falling on my face when I tripped over some twig buried under the snow. Either way!"

Sirius smiled of his own accord, feeling some of his friend's joviality seep under his skin. He could relate, if only somewhat.

"Oh, but then-" James' face crumpled, before changing into a frightening mask of hatred. Even Peter and Remus seemed to sense it; Sirius could see Remus putting a hand out to shut Peter up, the two of them turning to watch and listen. "I was just walking with her, yeah? I was just walking. And then we come into Hogsmeade, just on the other side of the station tracks, and there's _Severus_."

The name was like a curse, like a hex, thrown from James' lips with such fury that he spat across the table. Some part at the back of Sirius' mind told him this wasn't a healthy response.

"I didn't even really see him at first. I was telling Lily something, and she was eating it up, smiling and nodding and then I see her turn and she stops, so I stop, and there he is. She _waves_ and the grotty bugger, he smiles and then he sees I'm there – oh, you lot should have seen how he turned positively _purple_. Then his face just changes, smooth and slimy as a snake, and he's neutral."

"I try and get back Evans' attention, but she turns to me and says, so sweet, 'Excuse me, James,' and she called me _James_, not Potter, or any sort of the names she's called me before, so of course I let her go. I watch her, make sure that ol' Snivellus doesn't try anything, and just as I turn to go, I hear footsteps coming up behind me, fast. Now, I think it's Snape, yeah, trying to lay a hex on me with my back turned, so I whip around, but it's Lily."

James paused, looking out across the room, sitting up and squaring his shoulders; his eyes that are usually so warm and playful were suddenly so cold that Sirius became afraid. He glanced sideways at Remus, nudged their knees together, but Remus just stared at James, face tight with worry.

"She looks at me, and I can see she's miffed. She raised her hand and smacked me, flat across the cheek, and spat out some choice words, and my name somewhere in there, and 'Leave poor Severus alone, for Merlin's sake!' and then she stomped back over to him. And then. Then! She goes over to him, and over her shoulder, he gives me this look- this- Merlin! I just want to-!"

There was a tense silence for many long minutes, waiting for James to come back to himself, watching the other boy heave and hiss his breaths through tight lips. Against his instincts, Sirius could feel a hot seed of venom growing in his stomach.

"Oi, Prongs, don't worry. We'll get that sorry sod, don't you worry." Sirius promised, smiling and reaching out to clap James on the shoulder.

On the edge of the booth seat, Remus slumped forward and gave a bodily sigh, but Sirius was already leaning bodily over the table to begin planning their revenge on the greasy-haired insect known as Severus Snape.

oOo

Two and half butterbeers later, Sirius was no closer to finding a way to get good, solid revenge on Snape. James was running in circles mentally, trying hard to find something, but he was just too involved; he would've gone for Snape's head on a stake, if he'd been able to go for it. As it was, Peter kept being a tiny voice of reason, and when Sirius felt he couldn't take it anymore, he turned to Remus.

"Hey, Rem, what do you think? There's got to be some-" Sirius stopped short.

Remus was gone.

"Bloody hell! Where's he gone off to?" he exclaimed, jerking his head towards the exit, and across the room. When had he gone? What the hell was he thinking, going off on his own?

"Sirius, mate, calm down," James said, voice low and probably supposed to be comforting or calming. "I'm pretty sure Remus can take care of his own arse."

Sirius took a breath, hearing the logic in James' words. But something isn't right- something he can't put his finger on. And then he sees it, tucked between the cushions from where Remus must have been sitting on them – his scarf, and his gloves, both gray and worn.

"That git!" he hissed, snatching the items up and pushing his way across the seat, leaving his butterbeer unfinished and ignoring outcries from James and Peter as he pushed his way through the crowds and out into the blistering cold.

A biting wind had whipped up, razor sharp across his exposed cheeks and making his eyes water. The light layer of powder had been whipped up, making it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in every direction.

After getting his bearings, Sirius hunched his shoulders and pushed against the wind towards Honeydukes. There was no one outside, save for a few stragglers scrambling to find someplace warm to hide in, and a few students braving the walk back to school grounds. There was no sign of Remus, not even inside Honeydukes, and old Honeyduke himself couldn't say that he'd seen Remus since both he and Sirius had been in his shop almost an hour prior.

"Sodding bastard," Sirius yelled to the wind, the sound lost in the freezing flurry of snow. There were only so many places that Remus would go, he knew, so he stopped, took a few breaths, stuck his hands into his armpits, and thought. If he were Remus, where would he go? He clearly wanted to be alone, seeing as he'd snuck off to who-the-Hell-knew-where without saying a thing to Sirius, or anyone else.

"The Shack!" he exclaimed, and the idea was so obvious that he was tempted to smash his head against a nearby lamp pole. He doubled back, running and breathing in the glacial air and feeling it coat his lungs in ice; felt his nose running and stinging; blinked away the tears that rushed to his eyes. He was fighting the elements, and he knew it. And somewhere out there, so was Remus.

When he'd found his way to the dirt path leading off to the Shrieking Shack, fighting hard to work against the howling wind. Offhandedly, he wondered if anyone would even be able to _hear_ the bells of Hogwarts calling everyone home.

The Shack loomed into his vision suddenly and without warning; one minute, all he could see was white- the next, there it was, its wood gray and fraying, an audible groan escaping every time the wind blew.

There wasn't a single door or window on the first story – although Remus had managed to rip a few holes in the walls along the second floor – so Sirius hurried to the front wall and withdrew his wand, tapping it gently against the rotting wood and waiting impatiently as the boards split apart under his touch, allowing him entrance. It was a trick he and James had perfected to allow them entry should they need it, a sort-of backup plan. He'd never needed it before, but he was thankful for it now.

"Remus?" Sirius yelled, pulling the scarf and gloves from his pockets. "Remus, you sorry pisser! Where the Hell are you?"

The bottom floor was vacant, which left only the upstairs room that Remus tended to favorite for his transformations. Sirius took the stairs two at a time, shouting Remus' name as he reached the landing. Cautiously, he padded across the hallway and into the first room.

There stood Remus, over by a window that he'd magicked into an actual, working one. The shutters were thrown open wide, the windowpane pushed open, letting in an onslaught of freezing air when the wind chose to blow into the room. There was a fine dusting of snow across Remus' chest and shoulders and hair and eyelashes, as well as across the floor by his feet.

"Remus! Blimey, you git!" Sirius was shouting, even though there wasn't more than six feet between them. As he approached, it seemed as if Remus had only just realized that Sirius was there. He turned around, slowly, blinked, the action dislodging millions of tiny flakes of snow in a cascade down his face. His eyes, instead of being their typical brown, seemed brighter, warmer, like copper and caramel, burning under the surface.

"Remus?" Sirius stopped, holding out Remus' scarf and gloves. "C'mon, mate, you're going to lose your fingers in this freeze."

Remus nodded, after a long, tense quiet, and reached out and pulled on his gloves before wrapping his scarf around his face.

"Why'd you run off like that, Remus? You- it's not like you to forget stuff like that, you know?" Sirius laughed. "You're smarter than that, Moony."

"So're you and Prongs," Remus snapped back, seeming to come back to life.

"I- _Excuse me?"_

"You two, sitting there-!" Remus threw up his hands, plunked them down on the windowsill and leaned out, a pale figure dressed in black and grey against the pure white. "I just don't understand, Sirius. I get it, Snape is in Dark Arts, and he's Slytherin, and he and James got off on the wrong foot. But you don't need to… He doesn't need to! The sooner you realize that, the better."

"Oh come on, Remus, don't be like that! It's not like anyone else likes him _anyway_. Besides, he always curses James first. He threw that first punch, we're just finishing the fight."

Remus turned to face him, and the look on his face was so disappointed, so sad, so god_damn_ condescending, that something in Sirius snapped.

"Why are you suddenly so _eager_ to help Snivelly, huh?" he bristled, spitting out the words and throwing himself forward. "Back in the beginning, you were giving us ideas, standing in the wings, researching. Now you just stand by and pretend that never happened?"

"Sirius, we're going in circles!" Remus shouted, launching off his perch and whipping around. There was something in the movement, the way Remus' hair moved, the lines of his body, the look in his eyes that made Sirius' heart rush. "I just don't want you lot to get in any more trouble, Padfoot. We've got two more years, and then we're home free. I just- you need to… I need you-" He stopped, and Sirius could see his face grow redder. "The sooner James realizes this, the better. I'm just so _tired_, Sirius. I'm going to step down on the Snape thing. But I just want you to be safe, okay? Okay, Pads?"

Sirius stared. Speaking, Remus had been very animated; vibrant with his cause, and his emotions were out and on the chopping block. It was such a rare thing – something restricted to fights, or moments in private. There was something about Remus this was that Sirius could not say no to. If it was this important to him, what was Sirius to say about it?

"Alright, Rem. I'll be safe." He promised, reaching out and putting a hand on Remus' shoulder. "I can't make any promises for Prongs, though. He's stubborn as a mule, and dug in deep."

"I know," Remus sighed, but his next words were cut off with the sound of Hogwarts' bells.

"They must be magic," Sirius mused, turning to the doorway. "To make them so loud over this weather?"

"What in Hogwarts _isn_'_t_ magic, Sirius?" Remus muttered, and gave a mighty shiver. Sirius gave a put-upon sigh, smiled, and wrapped an arm around Remus' shoulder. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Sirius removed his arm from Remus' shoulders to tap his wand against the wall. Just as the doorway finished arranging itself, he felt a gentle squeeze of a hand around his elbow. He turned, and there was Remus, only he was much too close— his eyes, up close, were really something to marvel at. As he pushed the thought from his mind, Sirius made to push back, but suddenly Remus was leaning forward, and then- they kissed.

* * *

Remus tapped his lips lightly against Sirius', clinging to the cloth at his elbow as if it kept him from falling from a broom to his death. Not five seconds later he lurched back, to see Sirius wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

"Ah- Remus…?" Remus dropped Sirius' coat like a hot coal, stepping back and around the other teen, and disappearing into the snow.


	6. Scattered

**Author's Note:** Sorry this is so short! It makes sense to cut it off here, though, I promise. This bit is a little sad.

* * *

At their best, the weeks following the trip to Hogsmeade are awkward.

At their worst, they're painful.

* * *

For two weeks, Remus watched as Sirius refused to so much as sit next to him, and endeavored to speak and look at him as little as possible.

Somehow, he was able to do it without looking at all inhospitable. As he moved to sit next to James –making it three Marauders on one side of the table and one alone on the other- James and Peter barely noticed, because Sirius quickly and animatedly began talking to James about some sort of prank. In doing so, he made it seem perfectly normal to not take the usual seat beside Remus.

It wasn't as if Sirius obviously ignored him, either. When the time called for it, Sirius was perfectly cordial. He wasn't _Sirius_, though. He wouldn't or mock Remus' studiousness the way he used to. He no longer threw an arm around Remus' shoulder as well as James' as they strolled the halls of Hogwarts. He didn't bother Remus for help with essays, or bring him bars of chocolate, wouldn't bother him when he was bored, wouldn't ask him for a spare razor.

* * *

On the first Tuesday after the incident in Hogsmeade, at lunch, Remus nearly suffered a heart attack when a Slytherin girl screamed and clouds of putrid smelling gas leaked from Snape's armpits. Later, when he and Prongs were alone in the common room – after he and Sirius had come up with a counter-spell for the smell in the Great Hall - Remus breached the subject.

"Prongs," Remus murmured, setting aside his parchment and quill. "Was that our work today?"

James stared up at him over a Herbology book, eyes wide and brow furrowed with confusion.

"Oi, mate, you feeling alright?"

"What?" Remus scowled, crossing his arms across his chest. "James, don't be evasive, I'm not going to go all Prefect on your arses, for Merlin's sake—"

"Blimey, you're serious." James' book fell into his lap, his mouth open in a small 'o' of shock. "But… But Sirius…. He said that you were the one who figured out the whole smoke bit."

Remus felt his face drain, his hands curling into fists against his chest. It was strange, to feel so weak and wounded and _sad_ while simultaneously listening to the rush of blood in his ears as he felt himself bubble up with anger.

"He did no such thing," Remus hissed, looking daggers at the roaring fire.

"…Is there something going on between you and Sirius?"

Remus started; he'd blocked James out, nearly forgotten him.

_No, there isn't, _he thought, his brain taking the question the wrong way and drawing that vibrant memory up from the furthest part of his mind.

"You'll have to ask _him_," he said instead, gathered up his homework, and marched up the stairs.

* * *

Two weeks after Hogsmeade, Remus walked with Pomfrey to the Shrieking Shack.

He stripped of his clothes, shivered in the whistling winter wind, and felt his bones snap, tendons rip, and muscles pull. He gritted his teeth and fought the pain, ended up curled against the side of his bed, whimpering and shouting in pain.

With a final slide of bone against bone, the Wolf was released, and a boy was forgotten under the glow of a silver full moon.

x

Remus awoke in the Shack, shivering cold, and alone.

At seven o'clock, Pomfrey arrived to take him back to the castle. Remus dressed, and allowed himself to lean against the older woman as together they trudged through the tunnel and into the warmth of Hogwarts.

Dumbledore himself had to help get Remus up the stairs, something that hadn't been needed since … since James and Peter and Sirius had become Animagi.

Once in a hospital wing bed, Remus was treated for deep gashes across his shoulder blade. He had somehow managed to punch his knuckles on his right hand to oblivion. He'd bitten a huge chunk out of his left ankle, and he'd scratched his back and torso to ribbons. Thanks to the miracles of modern magic, he would be ready to leave by suppertime.

As he fell in and out of exhausted, dreamless stupors, Peter and James visited him once, after lunch. The boys didn't stay long; Remus was in no shape to be chatting, and both his companions seemed off put by what he could only assume was a garish display of scars and blood.

x

Sirius never came.

* * *

The most telling moment is when Hogwarts begins to usher out students for the winter holidays.

From the beginning of his years at Hogwarts, Remus had stayed at Hogwarts over the break. It was easier; his parents didn't want to have to deal with a werewolf in the house. Here he had the Shack, and people to look after him.

For the past two years, as relationships with Sirius and his family had begun to become more strained, Sirius had opted to spend half of break at Hogwarts, keeping Remus company. The other half he would spend at James' place, avoiding his ever-judgmental mother.

"You okay on your own this break, Rem?" James asked over his shoulder as he packed the last of his belongings into his trunk. Remus, who had been searching under his bed for one of Peter's missing socks, froze.

"Where's Sirius going?" he asked, biting his lip when he heard the weak quaver to his voice. Of course, Sirius wasn't in the dorm now. He was off, doing detention, or chasing a bird, or just being an overall pisser.

"He's coming to my house for the whole of the holidays," James continued, not breaking stride as he magically commanded his clothes to fold and stack. "My parents wanted to go traveling this time. We're heading off to see some relatives in the country. Of course, you know how my mum is about Sirius. She insisted he come along… And Sirius, the wanker, he's even paying his own way."

"I'm sure he is," Remus muttered under his breath. With a flick of his wand, he grabbed Peter's sock and threw it across the room to the other boy, hitting him flat across the face.

* * *

"You know, you can't just pretend I don't exist, Padfoot." Remus explained calmly, magicking stains and creases out of the last of Sirius' clothing. _Like a bloody house wife_, he thought to himself, giving his wand a rather savage wave.

"Excuse me?" Sirius' voice wafted over from behind the curtains on his bed, where he lay on his back, reading some book – most likely a late assignment he was rushing to finish before he left.

"I'm not _stupid_ Sirius. We don't have to be kindergarteners here, you know. I'm not made of glass. I didn't even know what I was—"

"Moony, for Merlin's sake, I don't want to talk—"

"I've figured that out, Sirius!" Remus snapped, his voice not rising above the normal volume even as he felt his pulse pounding against his skull. Sirius sat up, giving a put-upon sigh and raking a hand back through his hair that now waved past his shoulders.

"Remus, please—"

"No! Look, Sirius, I was just. I was emotional, and I—"

"You kissed me." Sirius deadpanned, looking up from beneath the fringe of his bangs. The combination of straight-out honesty and the strength of Sirius' gaze threw Remus completely, although he should have expected it. Sirius was just like that.

Before he could pull himself back together, find his argument, gain back his momentum, Sirius threw the book down on the bed and fled the room with a simple _thank you_ before he shut the door.

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

x

* * *

**END NOTE:** So, would you like to see this exact same time-frame from Sirius' point of view, or do you want to continue the story, just going right after this leaves off? Lemme know! I honestly listen to what you guys say.

Also! I got two adorable reviews from Padfoot's Blondie and Rita! Thank you both, you made my day and inspired me to finish this quickly! 3


	7. Scared

**Author's Note:** I just had to throw this in! Also, I got a lovely review from someone using the name "moonyismine", but I couldn't respond! I just wanted to say that your review is exactly what every author wants to hear, and I'm no exception. You're the reason this chapter is here today! 3

* * *

At their best, the weeks following the trip to Hogsmeade are awkward.

At their worst, they're painful.

* * *

To say that Sirius was blindsided by Remus' move back at the Shrieking Shack would be the understatement of his life. He couldn't even think to unload and untangle how he felt. He'd never _thought_ of Remus _that way_ before.

_Hell_, he'd practically never thought of any _one _particular person that way before. When Sirius thought of kissing girls, it wasn't like he conjured a specific one. It was a body, with supple breasts and soft, smooth skin and long legs. He kissed with his eyes closed. He could count on two hands the number of birds he'd kissed, ever.

What did Remus think, every time he looked at Sirius?

Did he … did he _think _things? Did he … _fantasize?_

He couldn't handle something like that. Not with _Remus_. Remus was his best friend, the way that James was his brother. Remus was the only one who could truly _understand_.

No one wanted to believe that Sirius Black, heir to the Black line and fortune, hated his family. No one wanted to think that he was unhappy, or that he would actually prefer to hang with whom he did over his own kind – Purebloods.

Both Peter and James came from fine families. Neither them nor Sirius had ever wanted for anything. Then came Remus.

Remus reminded Sirius to be humble. Remus was the one who could take Sirius down a notch, and Sirius found that he didn't really _mind_.

* * *

He started cold turkey. It wasn't always easy, ignoring Remus, but he did his best. Occasionally, he'd begin to bend over across the table, or lean into the other boy, ready to whisper some tasty tidbit into his ear before he'd remember himself. He didn't put an arm around Remus' shoulder when it came time to walk to class, or the Great Hall, or to bed. He didn't bother Remus when he was working. He didn't ask the other boy for help with essays – and _blimey_ was that a _real _sacrifice. When he went down to Honeydukes after dinner - against the rules, of course – he did not buy a huge milk chocolate bar for Remus, as he would have done… before. When it came time to unload the goodies in the privacy of the dorm, Sirius wouldn't look Remus in the eye, afraid to see any sign of disappointment or bereavement.

It wasn't that he wanted to hurt Remus, Sirius assured himself. It was more that he couldn't _trust_ Remus anymore. How could he be sure that Remus wasn't ogling his arse, or having wet dreams about the two of them… _together?_

When it came time for another customary prank against Snivellus, they hit a wall.

"Oi, mates, hold on," James exclaimed, looking over the notes they'd madly scribbled. "Anyone know how to make the smoke come out from his 'pits? I mean, we can't just walk up and stick something there."

"Let's ask Remus!" Peter piped up.

At the mention of their fourth Marauder, Sirius' head jerked up. James and Peter were both staring at him expectantly.

"What?" he snapped, raising his eyebrows and hunching his shoulders.

"We need to ask Remus for some help with the smoke bit," James explained, smiling like he knew what Sirius had been thinking about. Sirius sincerely hoped he didn't. "Could you go talk to him?"

Actually, Sirius would rather have _not_ spoken with Remus, but he couldn't very well say that. Outside of James, Remus was the one with whom Sirius spent all his time. If he started acting up now, James and Peter would be on him forever until he spilled the beans.

"Alright, yeah. Be right back."

oOo

Sirius never spoke to Remus. He strode out from the Common Room without looking at the other boy twice, even though they passed within two feet of each other. Instead, he headed right for the library and researched for nearly an hour on how to make the smoke work how they wanted.

oOo

James and Peter were never the wiser.

* * *

Two days before Remus was due to head to the Shrieking Shack, James approached Sirius in the middle of the Great Hall at lunch.

"Sirius, can we talk?" he asked, sliding across the bench until they sat straight across from one another.

"Sure mate. What's up?" Sirius took another too-large bite of curry, reveling in how it burned across his mouth and throat.

"Is something going on between you and Remus?"

Sirius choked, coughing, managing to spew his mouthful back across his plate. James stared hard at him when he'd recovered. Sirius managed to regain his voice, though it was rough and broken up by intermittent coughs.

"Sorry, ah, must have had some spice go down the wrong pipe," he managed to wheeze, pulling a napkin over his face as he continued to cough. "What'd you say?"

"I said, is something going on between you and Remus?"

_Is something going on between Remus and me? No. Why? We have nothing between us, nothing. He's the one who … who…_

"Of course not. Why would you think that?"

James wasn't very easily discouraged. "Sirius, mate, come on. I know that you didn't ask Remus for help with the prank. You've been really dodgy lately around him, too. You think we haven't noticed? Merlin, not a day used to go by without you bugging Remus to get his head out of his books. Now you barely even speak to him!"

Sirius felt his gut tighten, anxious waves rippling through the ocean in his stomach.

"Does this have something to do with that day in Hogsmeade?"

Somehow, James was just throwing Sirius off left, right and sideways. His head lurched up in shock, and there must have been something in his face. James knew him too well.

"It's between him and I," Sirius interjected as James opened his mouth again, tone final. "Don't worry, James. I'll work this out. I always do."

* * *

"What do you _mean_ you're _not going to the Shack?_" James spat, voice heavy with venom. Peter cowered in the corner by the door, Invisibility Cloak clutched tight in his sweaty hands.

"I _told you_, James. You know how Moony's emotions go mad when he transforms. Right now, we're still … we're still _pissed_ at each other, all right? I don't want to mess with him anymore. I don't want to _endanger_ everyone over little 'ol me. You and Pete can handle 'im just fine, right Petey?"

Peter simply stood there, eyes wide and flicking back and forth between James and Sirius.

James seethed for a moment before stomping over to the door and wrenching it open. Peter scurried down the steps. Before he left, James turned and pinned Sirius with a death-glare.

"I don't know what's going on, Sirius, but believe me, I _will_ find out, you hear me?"

oOo

There was no way that Sirius could stay here at Hogwarts, alone, with Remus. It would kill them. When James offered to take Sirius with him over the entirety of break into the countryside, Sirius couldn't say no. It was _too_ perfect.

oOo

* * *

It was a testament to Remus, really, that the Prefect still helped Sirius pack his trunk when the two of them were in the middle of something as deep as they were. It made Sirius' heart tug painfully.

As Remus packed, Sirius picked up a book and scanned the pages, falling back into his own bed with a tired sigh.

"You know," came Remus' soft voice from the foot of the bed. Sirius hazarded a glance over the top of his book, watching Remus' face as he concentrated on wand movements, the clothing smoothing out and neatly folding before floating behind the open lid of his trunk. "You can't just pretend I don't exist, Padfoot."

Sirius started; the tone was calm, the implication so sharp.

"Excuse me?" he replied, keeping his words gentle.

"I'm not _stupid_, Sirius," Remus snapped, words hard as steel even as his tone stayed level, his eyes never straying from the piece of clothing he was neatly magicking into the trunk. "We don't have to be kindergarteners, you know. I'm not made of _glass_. I don't even know what I was—"

"Moony, for Merlin's sake, I don't want to talk—" Sirius quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear that sentence finished.

"I've figured that out, Sirius!"

Sirius sat up; startled by Remus' harsh remark, though he managed to keep the movement fluid and calm. He gave a put-upon sigh and raked a hand back through his hair, the book forgotten on his lap.

"Remus, please…"

"No! Look, Sirius, I was just… I was just _emotional_, and I –"

"You _kissed me_." Sirius said, deadpanning, not even sure that the steel, calm voice he heard was coming from _him_. He stared up at Remus through a fringe of his hair, watching the other boy's face go blank, his expression haze over. The words were perfect; a dart to the one chink in Remus' armor. It was a specialty of Sirius', some sort of defense mechanism that triggered itself. Before Remus could un-scramble his thoughts, Sirius stood and threw the book down on the bed.

"_Thank you,"_ he murmured as he left, and closed the door.


	8. Soothed

**Author's Note:** What the hell, y'all deserve this. First of all, I received the most splendid review for the last chapter. However, it was anonymous! I am pleased to have drawn someone back into faith in fanfiction, and I would love to send you my most heartfelt thanks! This chapter is for you, and so is nearly every one afterwards, I think. I also think you are going to like this chapter, everyone. I would put a smiley, but FF . net is a bit of a jerk with that. So, without further ado!

* * *

Remus was alone for Christmas.

He got mail from James, Peter, even Lily. But the one letter he waited for never came.

* * *

On Christmas Eve, he pulled a heavy armchair over to the fire, curled up, and read _The Hound of Baskervilles_. The Common Room was empty, and dark, save for the ring of golden light pooling from the fireplace and alighting on the branches of a scrawny tree that James and others had lugged up, slightly against the rules. The thing was nearly barren and drooped weakly, but in the firelight, it managed to look rather majestic.

* * *

Remus awoke in the same chair, in the same position, his book forgotten and lying splayed across the floor by the hearth.

Once he'd managed to gain the feeling back in his legs and had cracked his spine back into shape, he noticed that the tree had a handful of presents beneath it. Only a handful of other Gryffindor students had stayed behind over the break, but Remus knew immediately that at least three of those boxes were for him.

He padded over the carpet in socked feet and grabbed exactly four packages, each with a tag which had his name scrawled across it.

It was too early for other students to wake, so he settled in next to the fading embers of the fire – on the floor this time – and tore into the boxes.

The first was from Peter. It was a small container of some ointment. On the note attached, he claimed that it would help with his pre-and-post-transformation aches. It was from plants grown in the Hogwarts greenhouse, and he'd mixed them himself.

James had sent two gifts. The first was a sweater and a scarf. They were a lovely dark mahogany with golden stripes, almost akin to the Gryffindor colors. Technically, the gift was from Mrs. Potter, who had hand-knit both articles of clothing _specifically_ for Remus. Before he could get too sentimental, Remus opened up the second package, which was from James. Inside was a box of assorted chocolates and one large milk chocolate bar. It would easily be enough to last until summer vacation, if he used it sparingly.

Finally, but not least of all, was a small gift from Lily. It was a small tin filled with brownies. Attached was a small note. '_Because, Mr. Lupin, you are entirely too skinny. Eat them __all__. – Lily_.'

When he'd finished unwrapping the lot, he gathered all the gifts in his arms and trudged up the stairs to his dorm, where he tucked everything carefully into his trunk. It was strange, he mused, having friends. It was something he'd never truly fathomed happening to someone like him, yet here he was with a plethora of lovely, heartfelt Christmas gifts.

The darkness outside was silent with snow. Yawning hugely, Remus lowered himself to his bed in an empty room, soon falling asleep.

Though he won't remember, he dreamt of Sirius.

* * *

When James, Peter and Sirius returned, there was a noticeable change. Sirius wasn't his same-old self, but he was much warmer towards Remus, and no longer completely ignoring him.

Within a few days, it was as if the incident in Hogsmeade had never occurred. However, to Remus, it was still painfully obvious. Still, some Sirius was better than none.

* * *

"I still don't know how you managed to transfigure that shoebox, Remus." Sirius grumbled in the hallway, James and Remus flanking him on either side. His had always seemed to come out more like a blasted _turkey_ than the Tiffany lamp that McGonagall was going for.

"Well, Sirius, if you _actually tried_-"

"Oi, I do try!" Sirius interrupted, insulted. "Maybe you missed the owl, Remus, but I can transfigure _my whole self_ any time I want to." he hissed. James promptly rammed a painful elbow into his side. Sirius jerked away with a yelp, glaring at him from beneath his bangs. "Ow, Prongs. What did I do?"

"Keep quiet, you git," James replied instantly, staring straight ahead. "You want someone to report us for illegal magic?"

_Of course I don't, _Sirius thought petulantly. Before he could retort, however, the crowd parted.

"_Snivellus," _James spat, and Sirius could feel the animosity pealing off of him in waves. Beside him, Remus gave a concerned noise and put a calming hand on James' shoulder.

"What _is _it Potter? What excuse do you have today to gang up on me?" Snape's voice was loud, calculated. Sirius felt anger begin to bubble in his blood. Everyone in the hallway stopped and turned at the challenge, staring expectantly between James and Snape.

"_James_," Remus whispered, and James began to regain himself, taking a step backward. Snape seemed to recognize this and started to walk forward, coming within centimeters of James' shoulder, as if to simply brush past him.

"An embarrassment to purebloods, Potter. Such a coward."

No sooner did Sirius think, _what is he __**doing**__? Does he _want_ to be cursed? _before James had drawn his wand and shoved Snape against the railing of the hallway. Students scattered with startled gasps and shouts, but James' voice rang clear.

"_Levicorpus!"_

Snape's feet immediately seemed to fall out from under him, one leg jerking up as if some invisible troll had grabbed him by the ankle. He was soon completely upside down, one leg ramrod straight, like it'd been hung on a hook. For many long moments he hung there, struggling, but he was stuck well. It was a good spell.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius caught sight of a flash of red hair. Against himself, he cringed.

"James Potter! You let him down _at once!"_

"She does a decent impression of McGonagall," Sirius whispered, only just before Lily marched up to them, though she didn't seem to hear him. Her eyes were locked on James, fiery and furious.

"What, Potter, do you think you're funny?" she sneered, the expression not at all attractive. "Well, you aren't! You're just an arrogant, bullying toerag. Leave him _alone."_

"I will if you go out with me, Evans. Go on! Go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old _Snivelly_ again." James retorted. Sirius really should have seen this coming; the volcano of _SnapeandLily_. Still, it was a dirty trick, especially for James.

"Not if it were a choice between you and the Giant Squid!" Lily shot back, and the entire hallway dissolved into giggles.

All at once, something changed about James. He seemed to crumple inward, shy away as if Lily's words had … hurt him.

"James, mate…" Sirius murmured, unsure of what to do. Was it possible that Lily didn't understand what a weak spot she was for James?

Before James had even recovered from the blow, Remus stepped forward and gave a majestic flick on his wand, bringing Snape down gently on his bottom. Both he and Lily rushed forward, reaching out hands to help him up, Sirius still focused on James, who seemed as if petrified by a basilisk.

"Get away from me, you filthy _Mudblood!_"

There was a collective gasp as Lily stumbled backwards, shock evident on her face. James gave a mighty sort-of growl, coming to life at once, stepping forward and brandishing his wand. Remus quickly stepped in, putting his body before James' wand. Sirius stood back, wondering how this had become so out of proportion so quickly. Remus lowered his wand hand, smiling placatingly.

"James, come on, enough is enough, yeah? Let's just…"

"That goes for you too, Half-Blood! I don't need help from such _impurities!"_

Remus' face took on a strange, confused-shocked expression, half-turned to look sideways at his accuser. Sirius' mouth twisted into an angry snarl, his own wand in hand and tucked beneath Snape's chin within a heartbeat.

"Listen here, you snobby arse-hole," he hissed, voice low and deadly, somewhat frightening to his own ears. "You leave Remus out of this, you hear me? He's only ever tried to _help you_, you … you greasy, sewer-dwelling scum!"

His heartbeat was roaring in his ears, a rush of adrenaline and fury seemingly having come from nothing. It was startling and overwhelming, but he couldn't stop.

Snape, for his part, looked like he'd just soiled his slacks. Something deep in Sirius crowed in pride. No one could speak of his Remus that-

Wait. _His _Remus? Where in Merlin's name…

There was a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away, speaking into his ear. But he couldn't … the blood was too loud, _whooshing_. He took a deep breath, calmed his heart rate.

"…Sirius! Mate, come on! Filch is going to be here any minute, we have to _go_."

Sirius lowered his wand, eyes locked on Snape's, and watched the fear waver in those dark pits. This was a warning. He didn't know how he knew, but it was. This was no longer just James and Snape and Lily. This was personal, now.

He turned, tucked his wand into his robe. James was pulling him away, the crowd walking around with their heads bowed, purposely avoiding eye contact and staying at a wide berth.

"Where's Remus?" Sirius asked, suddenly coming back to himself and whipping his head around, gazing into a sea of unfamiliar heads.

"Shite, calm down Sirius," James hissed, tugging at Sirius' elbow with more force. "He has Charms now, remember? We have to get to Muggle Studies; separate floors."

Sirius shook his head, moving as though through molasses, following James through the bustling crowd.

* * *

Hours later, sequestered in the common room studying for potions, Sirius' heart was still fast and tight in his chest, and he couldn't keep his thoughts in a smooth, organized line. Underneath the flurry of topmost thoughts were flashes of _Remus_; Remus in the hospital wing, pale and asleep; Remus curled naked on the floor of the shack, shivering and covered in blood.

_"We never asked you to be our bloody nanny, Remus. At least every full moon you loosen up,". _Sirius could remember that look of betrayal, that single tear that had tracked down his face.

_"No, Sirius. I get it. The moody Prefect werewolf is getting to be a bit much. It's alright. It's natural, really. Purebreds aren't meant with mix with mutts."_

Sirius' hand tightened dangerously around his quill. How could Remus have thought that? Sirius, of all people, he would _never_.

_"That goes for you too, Half-Blood!"_

Studying forgotten, Sirius shoved his scroll of parchment into his bag. He was only on the first step of the stairwell towards the dorms when the Fat Lady swung open, a tired Remus wandering in. Sirius swallowed. He wanted to turn away, avoid catching Remus' eye, to avoid the tinder and flint of his current wildfire thoughts. But he was stuck, frozen and unable to move. Remus soon noticed him, his pale face changing from a carefree smile to a determined stare.

"Sirius, wait a moment, will you?"

What was there for Sirius to say, other than "Of course Rem," and he put on a dazzling grin. Remus made his way over, a good head shorter than Sirius thanks to the stairwell.

"If, well, if you're not too tired, mate, do you mind…" Remus scratched at his elbow, eyes flitting across the room, occasionally looking back at Sirius before darting away. "Fancy a walk?"

* * *

When both boys had put their schoolwork down in the dorm, Remus lead the way down the stairs and out of the common room. He hadn't really thought this through very well, he realized as he gazed down the corridor at the sleeping or nodding-off portraits.

"Where to, Rem?" Sirius asked, very quietly, from behind.

"The lake," Remus blurted out, his face going crimson. The _lake?_ Last he'd checked there'd been snow falling outside. It was after eight at night; the temperature was probably nearing freezing.

"Alright," Sirius agreed, pulling ahead and moving towards the stairs. Remus quickly scrambled to catch up, surprised that the idea hadn't been outright rejected.

They walked to the front door – which was still open and guarded by a twitchy Ms. Norris – in a perfectly companionable silence . Neither of them spoke, but there wasn't a need to, the way it used to be. As they passed through the doors, Sirius turned round and stuck his tongue out at Ms. Norris, to which Remus responded by punching him solidly on the arm.

Snow had fallen in a light blanket across the grounds, crunching heavily under their winter boots as they walked around the castle and came upon the lake. Near the shores, the water had frozen very thinly at top, though great mists rose from the dark center.

"I wonder if the squid is frozen," Sirius murmured, and Remus was jarringly reminded.

"Sirius," he started, tucking his exposed hands into his armpits and watching the white plume of breath dissolve into the dark.

"Yeah?" Sirius prompted, hunching his shoulders against a quick, biting wind. Remus mentally scolded himself for suggesting a walk outside in this weather, but it was too late now.

"Earlier, with Snape. Why did you—It's nothing I haven't heard before, you know," Remus exhaled in a rush, his cheeks growing hot. Beside him, Sirius was silent, though his shoulders gradually drooped and he took on the refined posture that, seeing it now, Remus realized had been shed slowly over the years. It was startling and, though an inexperienced eye may not have seen it, to Remus, Sirius looked like a different person.

"I don't know," Sirius sighed, running a hand back through his long hair. "I don't… But … Snape, he doesn't know…" It was as if he were speaking to himself, until his head suddenly turned and their eyes connected. Remus was at a loss for breath, momentarily, seeing those grey eyes turn quicksilver bright in the moonlight off the water.

"Remus, you know, what I said…" Sirius had turned his whole body now, eyes wide and eager. "That day, about you, and what I said, and you…" His voice faltered for a moment, and those brilliant metallic eyes were tightly closed as he seemed to reclaim himself. "I didn't mean it. I mean. What Snape said today… I would _never_… If… If I've ever even made you _think_ that…"

Sirius was talking so quickly, his face half obscured by steam that billowed around him and seemed to hover near him, not wanting to leave. His eyes were intense and thin, angry, gaze thrown sideways and down as if staring as some disgusting piece of garbage.

"I don't think of you that way, you know that, right mate?" Those eyes again, this time wet and open and begging. "So what Snape said, he doesn't _know you_, and all you've ever tried to do is be _nice_ to that git. And the last thing you need is _him_ on your back. James, he's a bloody idiot, and he's asking for it. But you?" His eyes change, again, and Remus thinks that it's amazing for one person's eyes to be so expressive.

There's a look in Sirius' eyes that Remus doesn't know, mentally, but his stomach is tightening and he can't really swallow or breathe, so he must recognize it, on some level. He and Sirius are very close together, now that he thinks about it, and he can feel the distant warmth of Sirius' body peeling off and hitting his own.

Sirius ducks his head forward, and slightly down, and then there's a warm sensation against Remus' forehead.

"Merry Christmas, Rem."


	9. Shifting

**Author's Note:** Hey y'all! This one's not so happy, though it isn't like any of the chapters have been, really. We're really, really getting there now, though. I REALLY REALLY REALLY promise! So please, enjoy!

* * *

xXx

xXx

* * *

xXx

xXx

* * *

It wasn't as if Remus had carried a flame for Sirius for years, the secret burning low in his heart. He hadn't wistfully stared after Sirius in the halls, or dreamed about him at night. That day in Hogsmeade… it was, in more than one way, a fluke. There had been one thought, looping through his head as he'd descended the stairs in the Shack.

_Kiss him. Kiss him_.

Maybe it was some sort of strange hero-worship issue. The idea that, when Remus needed him most, Sirius was there; that revelation that Sirius had healed what was now a slightly-raised scar that ran down the back of the his neck.

He would've put it all behind him. It was stupid, childish. Remus was the sort of person who enjoyed being liked by others, and he wouldn't sacrifice one of his very few friends. He'd thought that he'd outgrown this, but it seemed to have been building, unbeknownst to even himself. But Remus could lock it away, like he locked away the wolf. He would put it in a small box, push that box to the edges of his consciousness, and forget it, if only Sirius would look at him again.

Sirius seemed willing to put it all behind him, too. They were both taking the high road, though there was still that lingering memory, those moments where Remus caught Sirius staring at him slantways, as if afraid Remus would suddenly throw it all away and kiss him full on the mouth. That stung, of course. But Remus had no one to blame for himself, so he would grin and bear it.

xXx

* * *

xXx

Over winter break, Sirius hadn't spent time deliberately thinking about Remus. Still, he did think of him. It was strange. Little, wispy thoughts would crawl through his head unbidden.

The way Remus had looked, at the window in the Shack those weeks ago, cheeks flushed red from the cold, snowflakes clinging to his eyelashes. The way that Remus _clung_ to him when their lips had touched; the way his heart would tighten, even at the mere _thought._ The memory of Remus running off through the snow, grey scarf billowing behind him.

As he sat in the spare room in the house the Potters had rented, his thoughts would skitter over the last time he'd seen Remus smile. He couldn't remember the last time that warm, welcoming expression had been directed at _him_.

On the return trip to Hogwarts, Sirius resolved to make it better. He had a feeling, deep in his gut and at the back of his mind, that if he worked things out, it would be better than it had ever been. Even as he committed to that thought, he didn't understand what it meant.

He didn't know what had possessed him to kiss Remus' forehead. Wasn't the plan, at the beginning, to distance himself as much as he could? Where had those feelings of uncomfortable uncertainty gone?

_Purebreds, mutt, Half-blood_.

He clenched his fists and turned away, staring out over the lake, but also watching Remus from the corner of his eye. Remus, to his benefit, looked gobsmacked. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly agape, though it was too dark to see whether or not he was blushing. Sirius' own face felt hot with embarrassment, though he kept his mouth shut.

xXx

"I can't feel my fingers," Remus murmured. He had no idea how long they'd been standing here; twenty minutes, two hours. Sirius, who had been staring heatedly at the dark lake water, nodded. Remus remembered the warmth of lips against his forehead and ducked his head, leading the way inside.

"Evening, Madame." Sirius purred as they passed through the doors. Ms. Norris seemed rather unimpressed.

"You really shouldn't antagonize her," Remus recommended over the sounds of staircases moving and portraits snoring.

"Remus, she's a bloody _cat_." Sirius grumbled, before whispering the password to a groggy, irritated Fat Lady.

"Just watch yourself, alright mate?" Remus sighed, too tired to go on. The two trudged up the stairs and into the dorm.

"Pete and Jamesy are out," Sirius whispered. Remus nodded and sat on his bed, pulling off first one boot and then the other, stuffing them under his bed, wiping the melted frozen slush against his robe before stripping out of that as well. Because it was freezing, and the next day was Saturday, Remus didn't even bother to strip down and into pajamas, instead sliding under the covers in his button-down, slacks, and socks.

The dorm was silent, Peter's halfhearted snores and the sounds of cloth as Sirius undressed. Remus was almost asleep when a voice spoke.

"Goodnight Rem."

Remus pushed himself over and up unto his elbows, squinting in the darkness. Sirius was leaning shirtless against one of poles of his four-poster bed, his smile warm but his eyes intense, as if Remus were some sort of puzzle.

"'Night, Sirius." Remus muttered, confused, falling back to his pillow with a monumental yawn before he fell asleep.

xXx

* * *

xXx

"Lily, do you have a moment?"

Lily wheeled around, eyes darting, searching for who had called to her. Remus smiled, waving his hand once to get the girl's attention. The classroom continued to empty, Lily waiting and Remus finally making his way over.

"I just need about twenty minutes," Remus said softly. While Lily and he didn't talk often, she and he did have a sort of friendship, and occasionally they talked, though at times he knew she questioned his alliance to James.

"Sure," Lily smiled, wide and all teeth. "I don't have another class for an hour, anyway."

"Perfect."

Professor Flitwick had left, so Remus sat in a chair, while Lily perched herself delicately on a desk.

"It's … it's about Sirius," Remus started, pulling his wand from his pocket and twirling it absently between his fingers, not looking Lily in the eye.

"Is everything alright?" Lily asked, and the genuine concern in her question had Remus spilling the entire story.

He had to fudge over some things, because while he and Lily were close, they weren't _that _close, and he couldn't bring up his Lycanthropy. So, although he'd never been good at it, he invented a story on the fly about a walk in the woods that had resulted in a nasty scratch that Sirius had helped to heal.

He included everything else- the Shack, the kiss, the long silent treatment, and the lake. (Did that count as a second kiss?) Lily remained rapt throughout, never once interrupting. When, at last, Remus had completed his story, she pursed her lips and crossed her legs.

"In all my years here, I've never known Sirius to care for more than his own backside," she started, voice low with awe. "I mean, it was always clear he cared for _you_ lot," she tacked on, wincing at her own gaffe. "But, what I mean is…" here she paused, looking Remus dead in the eye. Remus sat up a bit straighter. "After … after last week, with Snape… I've never seen him lash out like that before. There were some _tremendous_ emotions there, Remus. Oh, listen to me… I've gone all _romantic_ on you." She giggled, blushing fiercely and flicking her hair over her shoulder. "Still, I don't think this is something you can ignore anymore. What Sirius did? That was a big step."

"It's also a mighty big turnaround from completely ignoring me," Remus added, slumping lower in his seat and placing his wand on top of the desk.

"Exactly!"

"…Well, what do I _do?_" Remus asked. He'd never done this before … whatever _this_ even was, and he'd certainly never thought he'd be doing whatever _this_ was with his closest mate. There was a lot more at stake here than rejection.

"Why are you asking _me?_" Lily sounded rather exasperated.

"I don't know!" Remus pulled at his hair a bit, then opened his arms in some sort of vague gesture. "You're a _girl!_ Don't girls know these sorts of things?"

"I don't know the first thing about being a _poof_," she hissed, as if the walls had ears. Now Remus winced. He hadn't truly thought of it _that way_. "Not there's anything _wrong_ with that, Remus," she assured, tucking her hair behind her ear and smiling softly. To be fair, the girl was taking the whole '_I might be gay'_ thing extremely well.

"Merlin Lily, I can't do this. What if it's just Sirius being… well, _Sirius_…" he realized belatedly that she didn't know Sirius very well, but continued anyway. "What if… what if I try and _do_ something and he turns around and calls me a shirt-lifter?" His words began to slur together as he picked up momentum. It would be the best reputation ever – Remus, the shirt-lifting werewolf.

"Remus… _Remus!_" Lily nearly shouted his name, reaching out a hand and putting it gently on his shoulder. "Don't over-think this. If there's one thing I know, it's that with… things like… _this_… when you start over-thinking, you start making a giant, blithering idiot out of yourself. So, here's my two-knuts on the whole thing, alright?" She scooted off the desk and smoothed down her robes, clutching her books to her chest. "Just be yourself."

xXx

While it was surprisingly hard to not over-think things – Remus had always been a bit of a wet blanket over-thinker – it was surprisingly easy to be himself.

xXx

* * *

It was the second Monday after the lakeside incident, and Sirius sat next to Remus at breakfast. Not only that, he _spoke_ to Remus.

"Morning Moony," he muttered around a yawn, raking a hand back through his hair and disheveling it.

"Good morning Sirius," Remus replied, taking a bite of toast.

That was about the extent of the talking, and Sirius quickly began to fall into some heated conversation with James over pranks. Remus rolled his eyes playfully at Peter, who snickered around a mouthful of chocolate croissant. Things, Remus decided, were good.

About halfway through breakfast, Remus put his hand down on the bench between he and Sirius, waiting for the others to finish so they could leave for class. Not more than a minute later, Sirius brought his hand down, right on top of Remus'.

Though he didn't show it, Remus began to silently fret. He still wasn't sure where he and Sirius stood on the whole _'friends' / 'something more'_ fence. And while he knew very much about spells, and incantations, and potions, and Muggle history, and Divination and Herbology and Transfiguration, Remus knew very little about dating. He wasn't _twelve_, for Merlin's sake, but still. Sirius was much more _worldly_ in that sense, and besides, when it came right down to it, Sirius was regal and royal and very beautiful for a boy. Remus was cursed and skinny and poor and very much broken.

But when Sirius didn't remove his hand, and instead quickly squeezed Remus' own, he wondered if, perhaps, things weren't quite as bad as all that.

xXx

* * *

xXx

"James _still_ isn't back from detention?"

Remus looked up from the book he'd been reading, sitting cross-legged on his own bed.

"No," he said simply, "And if he is, I think he'd be off trying to _woo_ Ms. Evans."

Sirius scowled. "What about ol' Petey?"

"Peter is in the Herbology greenhouse," Remus answered, closing his book and placing it on the bedside table. Sirius came and sat at the foot of Remus' bed, toed off his shoes, and moved to sit cross-legged across from Remus.

"What're you doing?" Remus asked, wary. It was three days after the breakfast incident. He was beginning to read into things, the way Lily had warned him not to.

"I'm spending some _quality time_ with my _favorite_ werewolf," Sirius grinned cheekily, but something was off.

"Where have you been?"

"Me?" Sirius tilted his head, half of his face covered by a wall of sleek black hair.

"No, the invisible grindylow floating behind you." Remus muttered dryly, rolling his eyes.

"I haven't been anywhere!" Sirius insisted. "At least, I haven't been anywhere I _shouldn't_."

Remus lowered his voice. "_Sirius,"_ he intoned, attempting to glower with some amount of force. "I may not be James, but I _do_ know you. What's wrong?"

Sirius blanched slightly, his eyes widening like an animal backed into a corner. After a moment, his expression fell and he produced a neatly folded envelope. Remus immediately felt guilty for giving Sirius such a hard time.

"Oh, Sirius…"

"No, it's okay Remus," Sirius muttered, and Remus was surprised by the use of his real name, not the nickname. Sirius reached up and pushed the wall of hair away from the right side of his face.

"Merlin, Sirius, what the bloody hell _happened?_"

Sirius managed to look rather ashamed, eyes focused on the floor of the dormitory. Half of his face, once smooth and warmly tanned, was now a faded, dark purple bruise that spread from his eyebrow to the base of his cheeks. Around the edges the skin was a sickly olive green. His right eye was squinted tight, the swollen skin keeping it almost closed.

"Regulus came to give me the letter." Sirius breathed, "But he wasn't alone. Bellatrix, Lucius and Narcissa, and… Snivellus."

Remus bristled, his hand twitching with the ache to run across the puckered, discolored skin.

"Well, you know me, Remus. Can't keep my mouth closed to save my bloody arse… Regulus was a typical wanker. Went off about how _this_ would be the letter where Mother and Father finally removed me from the family." Though it was obvious he was fighting valiantly, Sirius' voice began to quaver. He paused and cleared his throat before continuing. "Of course, Snape got in his wounded boy routine. They all ganged up on me. Snape can throw a _dangerous_ right hook. Lucius is more muscle than he looks."

Remus furrowed his brow. "What else, Sirius? What about Bellatrix and Narcissa?"

Sirius' face fell, his eyes wildly searching around the room until they locked on Remus' own.

"Sirius. _What did they do?_"

"They… they stunned me.

"Those bastarding bloody arseholes!" Remus swore, loud and angry. It was nowhere near enough of what had to be said. "Don't go anywhere," he hissed at Sirius, before he slid off the bed and went to his trunk, extracting the balm that Peter had given him over Christmas.

"What're you…" Sirius turned his head, watching as Remus came back around.

"Peter made this," Remus explained, unscrewing the lid. A strong aroma began to waft out, heavy and earthy. "It helps with bruising. Is that the worst of it?"

Sirius, looking away again, pulled his robe off and undid the front of his button-down, revealing another nasty bruise in the center of his chest. Remus hissed under his breath.

"Shite, Sirius," his voice was nearly a whimper as he reached out and ghosted his fingertips across the purpling flesh. Sirius inhaled sharply.

"Your hands are _freezing_," he muttered, and Remus snorted a humorless laugh.

"Get over it. Now c'mere…"

With some maneuvering, Remus convinced Sirius to put his head unto his lap. He couldn't remember the last time they'd been _this close_. Sirius' black hair splayed out across Remus' gray slacks, his red-and-gold-striped tie still loosely tied around his neck.

Remus dipped his fingers into the opaque green paste, hovering his fingers above Sirius' cheekbone.

"I have to rub this in. I'm going to try and be gentle, but it will probably hurt like hell," he warned softly, and pressed his fingers against the warm skin.

Occasionally, Sirius hissed in discomfort, though he never so much as twitched. By the time Remus had moved on to his chest, leaning awkwardly over Sirius' face, the other boy had closed his eyes. After he had finished, Remus wiped his fingers against his own robe and placed the container on top of his book on the table. When Sirius did not immediately open his eyes and leap away, Remus leaned back unto his elbows and ran his fingertips once through Sirius' long hair. The letter, which had been put aside, still lay on the bed. Feeling slightly bad for it, Remus picked it up, though he did not open it.

"You can read it," Sirius whispered, voice heavy with sleep. Remus started, jostling Sirius in his lap. The other boy was staring up at him, grey eyes blank and tired.

"Ah- I didn't…"

"It's okay," Sirius assured, reaching out and plucking the letter from Remus' hand. His finger slid under the lip of the creamy envelope and pulled out a glossy piece of parchment, folded evenly into thirds.

"She say anything particularly _bitchy_ this time around?" Remus inquired softly, shifting his weight, careful not to disturb the occupant of his lap. Sirius shrugged, his shoulders gently tapping Remus' hipbones. He folded open the letter, and began to read.

"_Sirius- Your brother has been informing me of your recent escapades. I understand that you are the true school clown, but now I see you're getting into fights as well. Fitting, I suppose, for the weakling of the Black line. Still, Sirius, please understand, you are our eldest son, and we do wish you to stop this tomfoolery at once and come to your senses. While not a trait usually carried in our bloodline, I know that you may be simply experiencing a 'rebellious streak', as some young men are apt to do. I trust that, in time, you will come to your senses. Do be aware, however, that patience is running thin. Sincerely, Mother and Father."_

Remus sat stock still and silent. Sirius' voice had been low and tight, and even now his hands were fists, crunching the creamy parchment on which the looping script had been written.

"I don't understand… how could we be _so_ different? I never went _out of my way_ to be sorted into Gryffindor. But, I suppose, the Hat knows best, eh? I must be the bravest Black who ever lived, to be able to stand up to years of inbreeding and strict rules."

While the words were full of a forced, awkward levity, they sounded dead to Remus' ears. He could see how Sirius' jaw was tight with tension. However, the other boy couldn't hold the expression for long before he winced with pain.

"I think I rather prefer the hate mail." He mused. "The Howlers I can stand. But this?" Sirius shook the note savagely. "This almost makes me think she _loves me_." He spat the words out, venom and hatred. "But she doesn't. She could _never_. She loves what I _could_ be. She loves the blood that runs in my veins, the name I was born with. But she doesn't love _who I am_."

Remus blinked, his stomach tying into anxious knots, his eyes threatening to tip over with tears.

"I don't understand _why _they don't love me," Sirius whispered, eyes searching the ceiling. "But I don't want them to love me. Not if it means being like _them_."

Remus choked back a sob, barely containing the sound. He moved an arm around Sirius' neck and bent over until their foreheads touched, feeling the warmth of a tear tracking down his cheek.

"We love you, Sirius." He breathed against Sirius' hair. It wasn't fair. Life, Remus had decided long ago, was _never_ fair. How Sirius' family couldn't love him… How _anyone_ couldn't love him, it was unfathomable. And yet, here it was. "_You_ are the strongest person I know," Remus admitted, smiling stupidly. Sirius was silent. "You're so very, very brave, Sirius. I can't begin to understand how much strength it must take. You will be – you've _always _been – your own person. I know it isn't easy. Just… don't forget, alright, mate? You aren't alone. We're here if you need us."

_"You've got us Remus—You've got me. We'll be here as long as you need us."_

Remus stopped, Sirius' voice from all those months ago echoing through his brain unbidden. Without sitting up, he trailed his hand down Sirius' shoulder and arm, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly. They stayed that way for many minutes, the silence punctuated by barely-audible sobs. Remus could feel Sirius shaking in his arms. He squeezed tighter, wishing, (not for the first time, he realized) that he never had to let go.


	10. Catching

**Author's Note:** I am. so. sorry. This is INCREDIBLY LATE and I have only two words for that: "Writer's Block". And if you think that's not a valid excuse, then you're not a writer. It was physically painful for me to try and write this, and I had two drafts of the final section of this. As is, I still feel the ending is weak. But from here on in, there shall be no more beating around the bush for these two lads. Without further ado, enjoy!

* * *

It was supposed to be awkward. He could feel Remus breathing into his hair, the warmth of their foreheads together, and the reassurance of their hands entwined. The sobs came easily, in a way he'd never expected. He'd never cried in front of anyone before, but here he was, tears streaming down his face and his chest heaving with gulps of air.

"It's okay, Sirius," Remus whispered, and the irony of a teenage werewolf consoling _Sirius_ about his family troubles was enough to force out a wet laugh. He snaked an arm awkwardly back around Remus' waist, feeling the other boy tense up.

"Thanks Rem," he sniffed, laughing weakly when he heard his own voice warble pathetically. Remus huffed a laugh, the warm air making the roots of Sirius' scalp tingle.

"Are you done being a lady, then?" Remus whispered, voice just as wet as Sirius'. "Because my back is going to snap in two here."

Sirius, despite himself, laughed uproariously, his sides pinching and his eyes spilling over with fresh, happier tears. Remus giggled faintly, stretching himself back up into an upright sitting position.

"I'm rather comfortable, actually," Sirius smirked, gazing up at Remus. "Maybe you could find some grapes or something, feed me?" Remus gave a snort, shoving Sirius halfheartedly.

"You bint!"

Sirius chortled to himself, rolling his eyes and flexing his hand in Remus'.

"Come on _love_, have a bit of pity?"

Even as he spoke, he realized it wasn't the right thing to say.

"Shite, Remus, I didn't—" Sirius sat up, carefully avoiding smacking his forehead into Remus' chin, their hands falling away.

"You didn't what?_"_ Remus asked, and the gentle, playful glint in his eyes was enough to stop Sirius cold, but combined with that innocent, coy tone... The best, though, was that Sirius knew that Remus wasn't even doing it on _purpose_.

He must have been staring, because Remus looked down at his lap and Sirius could feel the gentle brush of their fingertips.

"You fidget," Sirius informed him, putting his hand over Remus'. Remus looked up, eyes wide and wary. "You mess with your hands, sometimes, when you're nervous." Sirius clarified, smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry." Remus murmured, again looking away- this time to the side. Sirius cussed internally, reaching out to turn Remus' face back.

"Don't you start _apologizing_."

"I'm s- … Oh."

The gentle pink was quickly rushing to Remus' cheeks, and Sirius could feel the heat bloom under his fingertips.

"Remus," Sirius started, thinking out loud, "I'm—"

"Yes," Remus interrupted, breathy, and it was an answer to a question Sirius hadn't yet asked.

Sirius leaned forward, but Remus must have too, a little bit, because their faces met sooner than Sirius had expected. He had his eyes closed, because that's what you _do_, but he realized belatedly that this might be something he'd want to see.

It wasn't truly a kiss. Their mouths only barely touched, but they stayed that way for a long moment, Sirius feeling the chapped, flaky texture of Remus' lips. He had a hand clutching one of Remus', the other supporting his weight against the mattress.

After what felt like eons, Sirius pulled back marginally, still close enough that when Remus spoke, Sirius could feel it against his mouth.

"James will be back soon," he whispered, his breath tasting faintly of peppermint as it breezed past Sirius' parted lips.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, leaning back further, and ran a hand back through his hair.

* * *

Remus was getting ready to leave when James got in.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked, sounding more than a bit chafed. Remus shrugged, avoiding the other boy's gaze.

"I think he was in the loo?" Remus offered, though he knew that Sirius had been in the bathroom for precisely fifteen minutes, having run in there after their little kiss.

"And where are _you_ going?" James demanded, half-turned to face Remus, eyebrows raised. "It's nearly nine o'clock."

"I know," Remus returned, slightly snappier than he'd intended. "I just… I'm heading to the Astronomy tower. I'll be in before ten." He smiled gently, but didn't wait to hear what James would say.

He took the stairs two at a time, throwing a quick wave over his shoulder to Lily as he climbed out through the portrait hole.

The sensation of Sirius' mouth against Remus' own was still fresh and warm, no matter how many time he licked his lips or rubbed them with the back of his palm. It was too much to try and clear his mind while Sirius was just in the other room.

While he'd never admitted it, Remus had never been kissed before. Sirius had taken his first kiss. Remus' face flared anew as he ascended the plethora of stairs up to the tower roof door, heavy and oaken with a thick round iron handle. Outside the temperature was still freezing, even as the months worked their way into February. The air was cool against Remus' flushed cheeks.

The moon, though partially hidden by thin grey clouds, was only a day or so from entering the third quarter – or full half – phase of its journey. Already, though still fairly weak, he could feel the pull, heavy in his gut. Emotions were closer to the surface; he felt so much more _carnal_ and out of control. The moon constantly guided Remus, subconsciously. He could always tell where it was in its cycle by the way he felt its prescience.

Somehow, along with the moon, Remus was now guided toward Sirius.

It was a strange, slow thing that had been building and culminating to this very point, this frozen night on the Astronomy Tower roof, mouth tingling and heart racing. At first, it was little things; beginning to truly _know_ Sirius- what it meant when his mouth turned _that way_, how to treat him when his eyes were dark and hidden. It became, over time, like some sort of sway that Sirius held over him. Constantly in tune with the other boy, Remus began to be extremely empathetic towards Sirius. What started as bonding over mutual self-loathing – _werewolf_ for Remus, _family _for Sirius – soon became something so much… _more_.

What this _more_ was - or would become - was something still too far away and distantly fuzzy around the edges, so that Remus couldn't quite decide. However, just as he couldn't control the moon, so too could he not control he and Sirius' eminent collision. So, taking a deep breath, Remus braced himself and returned to the common room.

* * *

"Did you and Remus have it out again?"

Sirius jumped, James' voice echoing loudly in the otherwise bathroom.

"Ah…" Sirius zipped his trousers up and flushed. "No? I mean, no. No, we're okay. Why?"

"He's just gone off, seemed to be in a hurry," James explained, turning to face Sirius as he came out of the stall and moved to the sinks. "He was rather snappy too."

"Well, it's only a week and a half or so until the moon, right?" Sirius offered, washing his hands while James leaned against a nearby basin.

"Merlin's soiled trousers!"

"What!"

"Your face Sirius! What on earth?"

Glowering down at his hands, Sirius looked up into the mirror and was again reminded of what had started this all off. While the mark still was a potent violet color, the swelling had gone down considerably. Remus' miracle poultice seemed to be working, and fast.

"Just some Slytherins getting even. About time they grew a pair and came back at us, eh mate?" Sirius smiled lopsidedly, the bruise on his face making it painful to try and smile fully.

"You sure you're alright?" James inquired, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me. I do pity the birds though. I had such a gorgeous face-"

"You bloody wanker!" James grabbed Sirius by the robe and ground his knuckles playfully against Sirius' scalp.

"Ah, watch the hair!" Sirius barked a laugh, shoving James away. "You and me'll have to think of a great way to get back at them," he offered, smirking as devilishly as he could.

"You bet," James confirmed before he yawned loudly, and began to retreat. "Well, I'm going to head off to bed. See you in the morning."

"G'night," Sirius replied, waiting until the door had closed behind James before he leaned over the sink, holding his head in his hands. He could still feel Remus' lips against his own; the gentle pressure of his cold fingers applying the balm; the reassuring presence of their hands tangled together.

Sirius splashed a handful of cold water across his face, watching the drops pearl down and drip into the sink, and then moved to leave the bathroom.

Before he had fully come through the door, he stopped. There, standing beside his bed, was Remus. The other boy had taken off his robe and tossed it across the lid of his trunk, and was now, it seemed, unbuttoning his shirt. He'd already stripped out of his trousers and into a pair of grey, tattered sweatpants. Sirius held his breath, and waited, glad that Remus was looking the other way.

Remus removed his white button-up, his shoulder blades rolling smooth under his pale skin – not pale like Sirius' had been, and sometimes became, - not the aristocratic, lack-of-sun-exposure pale. No, Remus' skin had an unhealthy pallor to it. He tossed his shirt atop his robes, and Sirius watched as his pebbled spine arched under his skin; traced the lines of pink-ivory scars with his eyes across those broad shoulders, ribs, and some that seemed to stretch forever down into the unknown beneath the sweatpants. On his right hip, prominent and stark against the pale skin, was a black mark that looked suspiciously like a bite wound. Sirius bristled, but didn't move until Remus had pulled on an old white t-shirt.

As the door closed, Remus turned and Sirius looked up, their eyes locking. Suddenly, it was too awkward to consider getting undressed. Standing stiffly, Sirius waited until Remus had gotten into his own bed and closed the curtains before he stripped into pajamas and went to sleep.

xXx

* * *

xXx

It was late in March. The winter cold had yet to leave Hogwarts, and there was still a crisp, thin layer of snow on the grounds.

As if to taunt him, it seemed as if Remus and Sirius were alone together nearly every day since that fateful day in the dormitory. Now, standing together in the snow, Remus could honestly say that there was no more awkward silence- simply expectant tension.

The two stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just past the hut of the half-giant groundskeeper, a massive man named Hagrid. With only an hour or so until lunch, Remus' stomach was curling in on itself and Sirius had begun to get antsy due to the absence of James.

"What do you suppose is in there?" Remus half-whispered, his words nearly lost in a sudden, whipping wind.

Sirius hunched his shoulders, a half shrug. "Well, there are werewolves…" he teased, smiling and nudging at Remus with his elbow. Remus gasped.

"How simply _horrifying_," he mocked, rolling his eyes. "Seriously Pads. Have you ever seen anything during your romps?"

It was hard to imagine seeing anything in that dense pack of trees. Even in the mid-morning sunlight, the canopy blocked most of the sunlight, leaving a dark, gloomy atmosphere.

"I've heard rumors of centaurs from some of the professors and upper years," Sirius mused, and Remus found himself gaping.

"_Centaurs_? Blimey."

"And then there's that story about the giant bloody spider. I'd hate to run into that thing." Sirius shivered, and Remus guessed it wasn't from the cold. Pulling his new scarf up over his face and nose, Remus smirked.

"Such a ninny," he mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Sirius turned, glaring heatedly down at Remus. He was red-cheeked, his silver eyes positively glinting. Though Remus didn't quite agree with the fashion statement, Sirius' hair had become long enough to pull back in a weak ponytail. He had it up now, golden earmuffs covering both his ears.

"You're a _ninny,_" Remus repeated, grinning broadly underneath his scarf.

"I can barely understand you, Moony," Sirius grumbled, sounding slightly irritated. "Wait," his eyebrows rose, his hand half raising as if to touch Remus' chin before he retracted it. Remus froze. "Where'd you get that scarf, anyway? I thought you only had that old grey one. I've even offered to buy you one."

Remus scolded himself as the thought of Sirius being jealous flittered through his mind. "It's from James' mum," he responded, enunciating and speaking slightly louder. "She's really sweet. Knit it herself and everything."

"Yes, and she hung the stars and the moon, too, I bet. Just take the damned thing off for two seconds. It's not that cold, anyway."

Before Remus could respond, Sirius had grabbed along the top of his scarf, pulling it down from beneath his nose. His fingers brushed gently against Remus' mouth, and he was ashamed to feel a hot blush spread across his face as his mouth opened in a small gasp. It was akin to being shocked, minutely and quickly, but he started just the same.

Sirius, seeming to know immediately the thoughts running through Remus' mind, stopped. His fingers were gently pressed against his lower lip, and their eyes were locked; try as he might, Remus couldn't find it in him to look away. Slowly, Sirius' fingers moved below Remus' chin, and those grey eyes were tinged with apprehension and fear. Remus closed his eyes quickly, and pressed up with his toes as Sirius tipped his chin up.

Remus' hands, lacking a place to stay, came up and curled around Sirius' earmuffs, acting as leverage as their mouths came together in a chaste kiss. As it ended, Sirius leaned his forehead down against Remus', both of their eyes opening slowly, Remus letting his hands drop back to his sides.

"This seems to be… ah... It's kind-of becoming a _thing_," Sirius started softly after a prolonged silence. "Us kissing, I mean."

Remus blushed and looked down at he and Sirius' feet. Sirius' eyes were simply too intense at this close of a range. He bit his lip.

"Well, I … I don't really mind. If you don't." His voice was weaker than he'd anticipated, and he mentally kicked himself in the shin for suddenly becoming such a ponce. It seemed Sirius had that effect on him. "Us kissing, I mean."

Sirius was very, very quiet. The silence was tense and loaded, so much so that Remus dared to glance back up and meet his gaze.

"Yeah?" Sirius half-whispered, sounding wary to believe what Remus said was true. There was a tiny smile beginning to tug at his mouth, causing his eyes to crinkle ever so slightly.

"Yeah," Remus repeated, feeling suddenly emboldened enough to smile playfully and swing his shoulder gently into Sirius'. He was downright _giddy_, for Merlin's sake.

"Oh, yeah?" Sirius challenged, beginning to lean down. Remus shut his eyes again, expectantly waiting.

The bell for lunch and the end of class broke through the pristine silence, startling Remus into taking a quick step backwards. Sirius immediately straightened. Feeling somewhat worse for it, Remus turned and gazed back towards the school, suddenly realizing how exposed they had been.

"Ah," Sirius cleared his throat, extending an arm to Remus. "Shall we join James and Peter for lunch?"

* * *

Lunch was quick. James whinged about Lily, while Peter sprouted some ramblings half about Herbology and half about, Remus _thought_, some girl.

"Time for the Dark Arts my friends," James announced once everyone had finished. Looking around him quickly and squirrelishly, James' face suddenly lit up. He threw a quick, "Ta mates!" over his shoulder before he disappeared.

"Lily," Peter muttered, as if any of the Marauders had never met James before.

The three remaining boys trotted up the stairs to class, Peter for once leading the pack. Remus hung back next to Sirius, smiling to himself and peeking glances at Sirius' profile like some love struck first-year girl. He felt strange, fluttering sensations in his belly as he remembered their kiss, as well as phantom hot and cold across his skin. They were not more than ten yards from class when Sirius caught him looking.

In a whirlwind of motion, Remus found himself inside some small, cramped, dark space. He could barely see his hand in front of his own face as Sirius closes the door.

"Sirius?" Remus hissed, keeping his voice low. "Are were in a _cupboard_?"

"Remus," Sirius interrupted, as if Remus had never spoken. "Did we decide that I can kiss you now? Whenever I want?" Remus, squinting in the dark, thought he saw Sirius lick his lips. His stomach dropped. "Because… uh… I want."

"But, Sirius, we have to go to _class,"_ Remus insisted weakly, feeling Sirius growing closer. "And I'm the bloody _Prefect_, for- for heaven's sake!"

"Oh, bugger class." Sirius snapped, and pressed his mouth to Remus'.

When he and Sirius stumbled in to class twenty minutes late, Remus swore on his duties as a Prefect that the reason they were late was that the haggis at lunch had disagreed with them terribly. Remus had never lied to a teacher, _ever_, except about his lycanthropy.

But as he caught Sirius' gaze, heated and intense, halfway through class, Remus deemed it a worthy fudge of the truth.


End file.
